The Story of Every Day: Love Without a Face
Every Day tells the story of Rhiannon, a 16-year-old girl who meets someone impossible to love—and falls hard anyway. The object of her affection is "A," a traveling soul that wakes up each morning in a completely different body. One day A inhabits the body of a classmate; the next, a stranger across town; the next, someone Rhiannon might never have noticed. What makes the premise work isn't just the gimmick—it's that Rhiannon and A develop a genuine connection despite (or maybe because of) this constraint. Every morning they have to find each other again, not knowing what body A will be wearing or where they'll end up. It's a love story built on uncertainty, and that's exactly what makes it sting.
The film doesn't bog itself down trying to explain A's origins—a smart choice, honestly. Viewers never learn why this happens or how A came to be this way. What matters is the emotional truth underneath: Rhiannon discovers that attraction isn't about a face or a body type or even consistency. It's about connection, vulnerability, and choosing someone every single day. That's a radical idea for a teenage romance, and the film leans into it.
Behind the Making of Every Day: Production, Cast, and Adaptation
Every Day is an adaptation of David Levithan's 2012 novel of the same name, brought to the screen by director Michael Sucsy and screenwriter Jesse Andrews. The film premiered on February 23, 2018, and was produced by FilmWave, Likely Story, and Silver Reel. It's the kind of high-concept premise that could've been a disaster in the wrong hands—but the filmmakers treat it with genuine tenderness rather than irony or spectacle.
Angourie Rice carries the film as Rhiannon, bringing a mix of curiosity and frustration to a character who's constantly grieving and re-meeting the same person. Rice was still relatively early in her career when she took this role; she'd later go on to bigger projects, but her work here shows real range. Justice Smith, who plays multiple bodies inhabited by A (including the one Rhiannon first meets), gives what amounts to a series of distinct performances—each body gets a different energy, a different cadence, a different way of moving through the world. That's harder than it sounds. The supporting cast includes Debby Ryan and Maria Bello, both of whom add texture to Rhiannon's world outside of her relationship with A.
The film earned a 7.2 rating on IMDb and sits at a respectable critical position for a teen romance that asks audiences to buy into a genuinely weird premise. It's not a box-office smash—those rarely are—but it found its audience among viewers who appreciate romance that doesn't follow the usual playbook. The 97-minute runtime is lean and purposeful; there's no fat here, no scenes that feel obligatory.
What Makes Every Day Stand Out: Performances and a Fresh Take on Love
What's striking is how the film refuses to treat A as a novelty. There's a real temptation in a story like this to make the body-swapping the joke, the gimmick that drives the plot. Instead, Sucsy and Andrews use it as a lens through which to examine what we actually value in another person. Every time A wakes up in a new body, Rhiannon has to choose—again—whether this person is worth her time, her heart, her vulnerability. That's exhausting and beautiful at once.
The performances ground what could've been a high-concept mess. Rice's Rhiannon isn't just a cipher waiting for A to show up; she's got her own life, her own anxieties, her own reasons for being drawn to someone so fundamentally unstable. There's a scene early on where she's sitting with A in a new body, and you can see her working through the cognitive dissonance—the person she loves is there, but they're not there. That contradiction plays across her face without a word of dialogue. Justice Smith's work across multiple bodies is equally impressive, though it's easy to overlook because it's spread across so many different scenes and contexts. Each version of A carries the same essential self—the same humor, the same tenderness—but filtered through a completely different physical reality. That consistency of character across changing bodies is what sells the film's central conceit.
The thing nobody mentions is how the film handles the question of consent and autonomy. A is inhabiting bodies that don't belong to them; those bodies' owners are essentially asleep, living out a day they won't remember. The movie doesn't shy away from the weirdness of that. It's unsettling, and it should be. But it also uses that unease to ask: how much do we own our own bodies? How much of identity is tied to the physical form we're stuck in? It's heavier than your typical teen romance, and the film trusts its audience to sit with that weight.
Where to Stream Every Day Online
Every Day is available on major OTT services, and you can check current availability through the Where to Watch widget at the top of this page. If you're looking for a streaming platform that carries it, Movie OTT tracks real-time availability across Netflix, Prime Video, and other services—so you won't waste time searching. The film's 97-minute runtime makes it perfect for a weeknight watch, and once you start, you'll likely want to finish it in one sitting. The story has a momentum that doesn't let go.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q: Is Every Day based on a book?
Yes. Every Day is an adaptation of David Levithan's 2012 novel of the same name. The film follows the core premise and emotional arc of the book, though screenwriter Jesse Andrews makes changes typical of any novel-to-film adaptation.
Q: Who directed Every Day?
Michael Sucsy directed the film. He's known for his work in television and indie features, and he brings a thoughtful, character-driven approach to the high-concept premise.
Q: Is Every Day appropriate for younger teens?
Every Day is rated PG-13, so it's designed for audiences 13 and up, though parents may want to know that it deals with themes of sexuality, identity, and some mild language. The romance is tender rather than explicit.
Q: What's the runtime of Every Day?
The film is 97 minutes long—just under two hours—making it a tight, focused story that doesn't overstay its welcome.
Q: How does the movie end?
Without spoiling it: the ending takes a hard look at whether love can survive the kind of fundamental impossibility that defines A and Rhiannon's relationship. It's bittersweet in a way that respects both characters' agency.
Final Thoughts on Every Day
Every Day isn't a perfect film, and it won't be for everyone. If you need your romance straightforward and your science fiction grounded in explanation, you might find it frustrating. But if you're willing to meet it where it is—to accept a premise that's deliberately, almost stubbornly illogical—there's real emotional resonance here. It's a film about choosing someone, every day, despite every reason not to. In a world of disposable relationships and endless options, that's a quietly radical idea. It deserves more viewers than it got.
