Fairy Tale Throwback Tuscany is a Shamelessly Sunny Old-School Hollywood Romcom
A shameless throwback to the 1990s and 2000s where the likes of Marisa Tomei (Only You), Meg Ryan (French Kiss), Diane Lane (Under the Tuscan Sun), Queen Latifah (Last Holiday), and Amanda Seyfried (Letters to Juliet) trekked the globe to gorgeous vacation spots and found love where they least expected it, the radiant You, Me & Tuscany is old-school Hollywood romcom hokum. It’s a fairy tale melodrama that wears its heart on its sleeve and is filled with a colorful cadre of supporting characters who all look like they stepped out of the pages of a dime-store paperback. None of it is believable, and I seriously doubt it is meant to be.
Director Kat Coiro is no stranger to making material like this sing — quite literally; she helmed 2022’s Jennifer Lopez-Owen Wilson winner Marry Me — and she is firing on all cylinders this time out as well. Which is good, because married screenwriters Ryan Engle (Rampage, Beast) and Kristin Engle don’t stray far from romcom cliché with their original scenario. Everything concludes at precisely the place I expected it to right from the first seconds starry-eyed Anna (Halle Bailey) spied Italian real estate dreamboat Matteo (Lorenzo de Moor) in a swanky New York hotel bar. There are zero surprises to be found anywhere.
Yet Coiro makes it work. She uses Bailey’s energetic spunkiness like a happiness hammer, almost daring the audience not to allow themselves to be bludgeoned into contented bliss as Anna foolishly drops the remainder of her savings on an impromptu trip to Italy and uses Matteo’s empty Tuscan villa as a free Airbnb. The director adds chaotic spontaneity to the young woman’s sandwich shop meet-cute with sexy vintner Michael (Regé-Jean Page). She also allows the dramatic nonsense of an overarching subterfuge to feel personal, heartfelt, and unexpectedly selfless, while also adding a layer of gentle pathos that makes even the more obnoxious bits play with intimate candor.
The core idea is simple enough: When discovered by his mother, Gabriella (Isabella Ferrari), and grandmother, Alessia (veteran character actor and filmmaker Stefania Casini), in his house, the pair mistake Anna for Matteo’s fiancée. Not wanting to get thrown into jail, she maintains the façade until she can escape back to New York. However, as the days pass, Anna grows to adore Matteo’s family, especially his estranged cousin-slash-adopted brother Michael, and soon starts to wonder if she can tell them all the truth without breaking their collective hearts.
It’s as dopey as it sounds, but so are films like Roman Holiday, Funny Face, Summertime, or Before Sunrise. Granted, while this one isn’t on the same level as any of those classics (not even close), it does strike a not-so-dissimilar chord. Bailey has genuine magnetism, lighting up the screen with graceful ebullience. She also shares fiery chemistry with Page, and while I prefer his performances in efforts as disparate as Sylvie’s Love, Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves, and Black Bag, his hushed, confidently whispery cadences do have their intoxicating charms.
Special mention must be made of Danny Ruhlmann (Anyone But You) and his rich, suitably vibrant cinematography. His sun-kissed images are crafted with immersive layers, and whether swiftly gliding through the grape fields of Michael’s winery or slavishly luxuriating over the many sights and textures of Matteo’s father Vincenzo’s (Paolo Sassanelli) neighborhood restaurant, the film’s visual elegance is beyond reproach. I should also comment on the myriad of spectacular and creative fashions that costume designer Massimo Cantini Parrini (Cyrano) clothes Bailey in. I don’t quite know how Anna stuffed so many knockout ensembles in a duffel bag for an impromptu week in Italy (did she borrow it from Mary Poppins?), but dang do they nonetheless look incredible.
I do have one issue with You, Me & Tuscany. Thankfully, it is a relatively minor one. Even so, there are a handful of scenes in this film that are, for lack of a better descriptor, perfect. A quiet moment of understanding and affirmation between Anna and Vincenzo. Others with her comically relaying all of her various troubles to empathetic cab driver Lorenzo (a superb Marco Calvani). These and a few additional interludes of pure, unfiltered magic stand out because they hint at the next-level romcom that might have been. Because of that, they can’t help but shine a spotlight on how cartoonishly basic the remainder of the narrative is. I find that moderately annoying.
No matter. Coiro and company deliver the goods. This unabashedly affable travelogue is a celebration of romantic cinematic fantasy that general audiences are almost certain to fall head over heels in love with. Considering I almost did the same, I won’t hold it against them if — when — they do.
Film Rating: 3 (out of 4)
