Film Review: ‘You, Me & Tuscany’ is a Dull Rom-Com Effort

The romantic comedy is back on the big screen in uneventful fashion with You, Me & Tuscany. On the one hand, it’s great to see a subgenre of movies that has, in recent memory, been exclusively relegated to direct-to-streaming “content” and Hallmark originals, back in movie palaces. They belong on those screens. On the other hand, it’s not so great when that same televisual aesthetic found in Hallmark and Netflix originals plagues this film, which was allegedly made for cinemas, creating an artificial sheen it can never overcome, despite decent performances from its lead stars. 

It’s even more baffling to see such a poorly constructed romantic comedy like this one when the director of this film, Kat Coiro, had previously helmed Marry Me in 2022, with Jennifer Lopez and Owen Wilson. While I can’t recall much from it, I do remember it had a compelling, textured aesthetic and a believable romance, making it ripe for the silver screen. There isn’t a single image in You, Me & Tuscany that looks like the type of frame that would lend itself well to cinemas. It’s all weirdly center-framed, with zero depth of field or perspective. It also makes every set look artificial, as if it were shot on a backlot rather than in the lush, picturesque landscapes of the Tuscan sun.

Even as Coiro attempts to build romantic tension between the leads, Anna (Halle Bailey) and Michael (Regé Jean-Page), Danny Ruhlmann’s photography can’t visually convey their burgeoning love. The camera frames everything – and I mean everything – like a glossy, Pinterest mood board, or a travel influencer vlog where they discuss their all-expenses-paid trip to Italy. There’s no surface or humanity to anything being visualized. Near the film’s denouement, it randomly turns into a Maserati commercial when Anna needs to drive (very) fast to profess her love to Michael. Such contempt for the audience inspires cynicism from this critic, who is still looking for a great modern romantic comedy. Sadly, they seem tailor-made for the TikTok generation, which verbally repeats major plot points ad nauseam so viewers don’t need to be fully engaged in the picture (say what you will about People We Meet On Vacation, but at least it looked good).

Did you know that Anna wanted to be a chef and was set to travel to Italy before a family tragedy derailed all of her plans? This will be repeated a thousand times before it essentially becomes the protagonist’s identity. There isn’t a compelling emotional journey for any of the characters in the movie, because it’s all telegraphed from the start. The man Anna meets at the top of the film, Matteo (Lorenzo de Moor), has some obvious skeletons in his closet that are revealed after she arrives in Tuscany and pretends to be his fiancée. It’s a complicated scenario, but it unfolds the way you expect it to, with limited emotional depth given to any of the protagonists, who all embody different archetypes. 

That said, and one will definitely be correct in arguing this, one doesn’t necessarily watch a romantic comedy for a groundbreaking plot or characters that tread unfamiliar narrative grounds. They’re watching it for the familiarity, for the effervescent chemistry between the leads, perhaps even some sexual tension as their romance evolves. Regardless of the reasons, anyone who buys a ticket for a rom-com knows what they’re getting and wants that specific formula. It’s the definition of cinematic comfort food. When you feel down, what’s a better movie than a rom-com to pick you up? I mean, if I’m depressed, Stanley Donen’s Funny Face is at the top of my watchlist. However, none of the relationships laid out in You, Me & Tuscany feel profoundly human or, at the very least, emotionally involving, even with a familiar story.

Growing up in a semi-Italian family tree, I found a better representation of the feeling of being around such lively and boisterous members in Stephen Chbosky’s heartwarming Nonnas than in the dull histrionics of You, Me & Tuscany. Most of the Italian characters are walking and breathing stereotypes, a disappointing trait that plagues most American productions that feel Italian nonnas embody specific traits, when they, in turn, have their own individual personalities. Nonnas highlighted this, while You, Me & Tuscany has that figure embody the same archetype you’d find in most Americanized pictures set in Italy.

You, Me & Tuscany cares about Anna’s journey of self-discovery, while Matteo’s family members are used as props for her to “unlock” things about herself. It leaves a bit of a sour taste in the mouth, especially when drama befalls the Italian family. Why punish them when it ultimately has little impact on how these characters might perceive one another? In fact, it has zero tangible impact, other than using this tragedy as an excuse for Anna to start cooking again. Everything feels schmaltzy and manufactured. We never buy into the relationships because the characters aren’t properly defined. They’re simple one-note clichés for audiences to gawk at, rather than forming an active emotional connection with their respective stories. 

As decent as the leads may be in their individual roles, their sense of alchemy is incredibly limited when Coiro pairs them on screen. Both Bailey and Jean-Page have natural charm (the latter’s was especially effective in Steven Soderbergh’s Black Bag), but don’t seem to work while they’re together. Is it the artificiality of Coiro’s camera? Ryan Engle’s horrendously-written screenplay? The bevy of jokes that fall painfully flat on their faces? Or a story we’ve all seen before, without an ounce of reinvention, or at least formal proficiency, to justify telling it again?

It’s hard to tell what’s at fault (not their performances – again, they’re very good actors who do their best with the material they’re given), but it’s clear that You, Me & Tuscany doesn’t work. Its commercialized aesthetic recalls horrendous Hallmark movies, not something worthy for the big screen, and the romance lacks the same chemistry as was featured in Coiro’s previous film. That said, if it ends up being a major moneymaker, it would be a net positive, since studios need to make more romantic comedies for cinemas. They’re moneymakers, after all. Why relegate (most of) them to Netflix? That said, please fix your aesthetics next time, and don’t try to sell us cars we can’t afford…

SCORE: ★