* Review by me in collaboration with ChatGPT
Nancy Meyers’ The Intern is, on the surface, a warm, feel-good story about a retired widower who joins a rising tech startup as a senior intern. But beneath its stylish interiors, clever dialogue, and comforting tone lies something more reflective — a subtle meditation on gender roles, modern work-life balance, and the quiet loneliness that can live inside even the most successful people.
A Familiar Setup, with a Twist
Anne Hathaway plays Jules Ostin, the brilliant, driven CEO of an exploding fashion e-commerce startup. She’s sharp, stylish, and committed — a woman who built her company from the ground up. Robert De Niro plays Ben Whittaker, a 70-year-old widower seeking new purpose through a senior intern program.The premise suggests a role-reversal comedy or a generation-gap culture clash. But surprisingly, it’s neither of those things. Ben doesn’t come to challenge Jules. He doesn’t need to "teach the kids how it's done." Instead, he becomes a quiet, calming presence — a supportive friend and anchor as Jules navigates the overwhelming pressures of her life.
Not Just About Business
At first, the film feels like it might be about leadership — a woman learning to let go, delegate, and grow into the role of a mature executive. But the movie sidesteps that arc. Instead, the pressure to hire a more “experienced” CEO is used less as a turning point and more as a symbol: Jules isn’t struggling because she’s incompetent — she’s struggling because the roles she’s playing are almost impossible to balance.
She’s not just a CEO. She’s a mother. A wife. A founder. A symbol. And everyone wants something from her.
We’re shown that success doesn’t protect you from exhaustion, and that even in a world where gender equality is officially accepted, emotional and societal expectations remain uneven.
A Reversal That Reveals
Jules’ husband, Matt, is a stay-at-home dad — a former successful worker who gave up his career for the family. On the surface, it seems progressive. But as the story unfolds, we see the quiet cost of the role reversal. He feels diminished, forgotten, and — in a critical emotional moment — seeks affirmation outside the marriage.
This gender-flipped setup becomes a mirror. For male viewers, it can provoke an uncomfortable but valuable recognition: “If this makes me uneasy, how must women have felt for generations?” For female viewers, it might evoke a more personal response: “Yes — this is the pressure I feel. This is what I carry.”
And in this way, The Intern becomes more than a charming story. It becomes a mirror, held up gently, inviting the audience to look — not just at Jules and Ben, but at themselves.
Feminism, Softly Spoken
Is this a feminist film? In a quiet way, yes. But it’s not a manifesto. It doesn’t shout or accuse. It doesn’t draw hard lines between right and wrong. Instead, it simply shows a woman trying to do it all — and gently asks the viewer to consider how hard that really is.
Rather than demanding change, it offers a moment of shared reflection. It suggests that expecting anyone — woman or man — to master both career and home without flaw is an unrealistic and unfair burden. And that those burdens, though invisible, weigh heavily.
Friendship Without Romance
One of the most beautiful surprises of the film is that it avoids a romantic subplot between the older man and the younger woman. It would’ve been easy — even expected. But instead, their relationship remains rooted in mutual respect, support, and platonic affection. Ben isn’t her savior, nor is she his second chance at love. They are simply two people — deeply human, navigating change, and better for having met.
A Snapshot, Not a Solution
Ultimately, The Intern doesn’t aim to solve the problems it presents. It doesn’t lecture or offer a clean conclusion. It simply gives us a snapshot of modern life, where roles have changed faster than expectations, and people are still adjusting to the emotional fallout.
It invites empathy, not answers. Understanding, not judgment.
And in that, it succeeds.
★★★★☆
A quietly thoughtful film wrapped in comfort, style, and warmth. More than it appears — if you’re willing to look.
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