Dear reader, before we delve into the subtleties of Mistress America, allow me to gush about it. Because someone has to; because it deserves to be seen; because it grossed just £642,965 at the UK box office while Trainwreck racked up £2,854,935 during the same period. Look, I get it: it’s more fun to read scathing criticism than ebullient praise. Unfortunately, when it comes to Mistress America, breathless enthusiasm is all I’ve got: it’s a fantastic movie.

When college student Tracy (Lola Kirke) meets twenty-something Brooke (Greta Gerwig) in Times Square, sparks fly. Like most rom-com protagonists, they’re initially brought together by a simple plot contrivance—Tracy’s mum is marrying Brooke’s dad. It’s what follows the meet-cute that sets Mistress America apart from most other rom-coms. For one thing, both Tracy and Brooke are straight women. The romance here is strictly platonic (talk about unconventional). What’s more, nothing much happens plot-wise; the emphasis is almost exclusively on character. And what extraordinary characters they are.

Tracy is our protagonist: we follow her perspective and hear her narration. Brooke, on the other hand, is the eponymous Mistress America. Tracy is quickly smitten and desperately wants to impress her. When Brooke suggests pasta for dinner, Tracy frets over which type to buy: “Is spaghetti ‘pasta’ the same way as the others?” she asks a male friend. The wistful narration lays it on thick— “Brooke’s beauty was that rare kind that made you want to look more like yourself and not like her; being around her made you want to find life, not hide from it.” And this is no unrequited love. “You make me feel really smart,” Brooke tells Tracy with a smile, “I’m glad you’re on my team.”

As they learn more about each other, we learn more about them both. It’s not all good. Brooke’s behaviours “turn from charming to borderline hysteric in an instant”, Tracy tells us. Meanwhile, “you are much more of an asshole than you initially appear,” Brooke says to Tracy during the requisite fight at the end of the second act. Crucially, both characters remain sympathetic all the way through the drama, because their dialogue makes them seem real. Neither is a caricature or stock type. Consequently, you find yourself rooting for them to work it out.

When they do, it’s in the most believable and most romantic way possible. The ‘grand gesture’ is a simple conversation, as it likely would be in real life. It’s a breakthrough in Tracy and Brooke’s relationship; the point at which they drop all pretence and admit their faults to each other out loud. They connect. We next see them through the windows at a café, sharing laughs: our happy ending. As the title - a neon ‘Mistress America’ - flashes on screen, the soundtrack pipes up, speaking for all the men sidelined in this story: “You could’ve been alright, could’ve been sweet as wine, could’ve been a lady”. That neither Tracy nor Brooke prove to be “sweet as wine” yet still get their happy ending is delightfully subversive. They don’t have to change, as Amy must in Trainwreck; they just have to get to know each other better. “So it’s no one’s fault?” asks Tracy. “Obviously; that’s always true,” comes the reply.

By using the infallible rom-com formula to tell a story about friendship, Mistress America elevates itself from would-be screwball comedy to something altogether more affecting. There’s no straightforward moral to be found here, and certainly nothing as crude as what Trainwreck has to offer. Instead, Mistress America subtly raises a number of challenging ideas: that truly understanding another person is as rewarding as it is difficult, that the self is basically relative, and that all relationships are ultimately compromises. In addressing all of this while still being tremendously uplifting, the film is resolutely unconventional. And it’s all the better for it.

Mistress America is screening at the St John’s Picturehouse on Sunday 1st November at 7pm and 10pm. Tickets £4.