What happens next will be familiar to any fan of the romance genre, as Garrett and Hannah’s strictly business relationship slowly blossoms into a real friendship and then something decidedly more romantic in nature. While their dynamic feels familiar — oh, look, it’s a brunette, overachieving perfectionist and an occasionally violent curly-haired phenom with daddy issues — it skews much more sweet than steamy. Even the sex scenes (of which there are plenty) don’t generate all that much heat, and it’s the pair’s genuine emotional connection that ultimately carries the day.
Despite being obviously older than the college-age character he’s meant to be playing, the 28-year-old Cameli makes for a delightfully charming frat boy with a heart of gold. Garrett has his fair share of emotional damage to process thanks to his rocky relationship with his overbearing dad, and the often cripplingly high expectations that go hand in hand with following in his footsteps. Bright, at a more age-appropriate 19, is effortlessly relatable as an everygirl stepping out of her comfort zone among the popular kids, and she deftly balances Hannah’s need to control the version of herself the world sees with the lingering fallout from a traumatic incident in her past. Most importantly for this show’s purposes, she and Cameli have sweet, lovely chemistry and the show is at its best in its early going, when the two are just engaging in normal getting-to-know-you-style activities. Although some (read: me) may argue that Garrett and Hannah get together for real a bit too early in the series, it does leave room for some of the story’s supporting characters to shine. Like Bridgerton before it, Off Campus is based on a series of novels whose focus shifts with each installment, and its serialized format allows the show to develop some of its future leads more naturally.
In terms of the series’ supporting characters, Mika Abdalla steals the show as Hannah’s wildly dramatic theater kid best friend, Allie Hayes, and, honestly, the entirety of the Briar U. team is fantastic, a loveable group of emotionally well-adjusted himbos who are unapologetically demonstrative toward and supportive of one another, surprisingly in touch with their feelings, and fully down with concepts like informed consent and female pleasure. Garrett’s bestie John Logan (Antonio Cipriano) represents the often-ignored perspective of a working-class player trying to make it in an expensive sport, party boy Dean Di Laurentis (Stephen Kalyn) has surprising depths, and group mother hen John Tucker (The Pitt favorite Jalen Thomas Brooks) seems to spend most of his time cooking for his teammates, but is adorable all the same.
Do they all occasionally seem too cuddly and progressive to be such dedicated members of a sport that glamorizes violence and has trouble acknowledging its homophobia, sexism, and other issues with female and other marginalized fan groups? Absolutely. Is it nice to see anyway, particularly given our current cultural climate and the state of hockey in general? Definitely.
Off Campus isn’t perfect. Garrett and Hannah are so obviously meant for each other that their romance has very little in the way of stakes. The dialogue can be painfully cringeworthy at times, and the actual on-ice hockey genuinely looks terrible. The needle drops are wildly uninteresting for a show that repeatedly insists music is a key aspect of Hannah’s personality. And book fans will likely be annoyed by several significant changes from the series’ source material.
But, at the end of the day, we’re really all just here for the love story, and Off Campus definitely knows what it’s doing in the romance department. As tropes go, a relationship between a popular, misunderstood jock and a wallflower waiting for someone to recognize her worth isn’t exactly breaking new ground in this genre space. But the sincere connection that blossoms between these two makes (re)treading the all-too-familiar ground feel like a good time all over again.
