Gym Buddy (2026): A Review of Macros, Mismatched Bags, and Bi-Panic

Gym Buddy (2026) is what happens when you decide the only sensible response to life is to declare war on your own body fat percentage. Noah doesn’t heal, he optimises. He eats lentils, counts everything that can be counted, and basically tries to out-run his emotions on a rowing machine that’s apparently taking him to France.

The Anatomy of a Workout

Enter Dylan, the guy who looks like he was designed by a “How to be charming” tutorial, but with actual personality installed. He clocks Noah instantly: this isn’t a glow-up, mate. This is self-punishment wearing a fitness hoodie. And the film nails that difference in one clean line: Dylan pushes himself, but Noah punishes himself. Oof. Call an ambulance, but not for the abs.

Their chemistry is the main workout here. It starts with cardio math (marathons, kilometres, “what’s 21km?”), detours into the most ridiculous flirting scale ever (“How much does a border collie weigh?”) and somehow becomes intimate without either of them doing the classic romcom sprint into a kiss. It’s more like slow reps: one joke, one look, one accidental truth, repeat until you’re sore.

The Art of the Tease

Then the film pulls a genius move and drags them into an art gallery where Dylan (the security guard) gets told: “You can look, but never touch.” Officially it’s about paintings. Unofficially it’s about their entire romantic existence. Look at the guy, admire the guy, absolutely do not acknowledge the guy. The metaphor is so obvious it circles back to being funny again.

The comedy here is character-based, which is the best kind. Noah is the sort of man who can turn a date into a lecture about protein density. “Was it nice?” “It was high in protein.” Romantic icon. Dylan, thankfully, is the friend who translates: she’s not going to want a second date because your chat is medically classed as a sedative.

Mismatched Bags and Real Connections

And just when Noah tries to slam the door with “I’m not gay” (said with the conviction of someone who absolutely is panicking), Dylan doesn’t push. He nudges. He asks real questions. “Tell me something about yourself.” Not your macros. Not your CV. You.

Noah’s answer? Supermarket bags. He must use Tesco bags at Tesco because… order. Dylan’s answer is pure chaos: he brings mismatched bags so the supermarket knows he has options. That’s when you realise the romance isn’t just “hot guy at the gym.” It’s “control meets freedom and gets dizzy.”

Gym Buddy is light, quick, and charming in a very specific way: it makes bi panic look like what it often is in real life – awkward, defensive, hilarious, and strangely adorable. Also, it deserves bonus points for making “lentils vs burger” feel like foreplay. I didn’t know that was possible either.

If you want a short film that’s funny, flirty, and unexpectedly warm, this one’s a great little watch. It won’t change your life, but it might make you crave pancakes and reconsider how often you’re “improving yourself” when you’re actually just punishing yourself. And honestly, that’s a pretty solid workout.