You, Me & Tuscany, 2026.
Directed by Kat Coiro.
Starring Halle Bailey, Regé-Jean Page, Marco Calvani, Aziza Scott, Lorenzo de Moor, Isabella Ferrari, Nia Vardalos, Stefania Casini, Desirée Popper, Tommaso Cassissa, Stella Pecollo, Paolo Sassanelli, Emanuele Pacca, Giulia Agosta, and Luca Setaccioli.
SYNOPSIS:
When a woman crashes at an empty Italian villa, posing as the owner’s fiancée, she discovers an unexpected romance that may transform her life.
With plenty of family, food, and travelogue Italian scenery to go around, it is disappointing, although perhaps not necessarily surprising, that the most director Kat Coiro can think to do with the corny and contrived rom-com You, Me & Tuscany (from screenwriters Ryan and Kristin Engle, billed as an original idea by the duo, which is a dubious half-truth, given all the clichés worked into it) is to double down on expired tropes, to the point where an alternative potential partner is introduced, meaning that the characters start repeating themselves, talking about issues and life derailments that were confessed 20 minutes ago.
Not only is this reminiscent of watching a streaming movie that consistently reiterates its character and plot points (maybe it was initially conceived as such before Universal decided to give it the theatrical treatment), but it takes a narrative which is already dull and predictable, founded on the age-old tactic of putting hot people together (and occasionally having a man shirtless and soaking wet) within a messy situation extending to the larger family, and watching what unfolds. It’s also difficult to care about what happens since the actors listed on the poster may as well be a spoiler for how this will end. Beyond that point, a large stretch of the film here is also uninvolving and rudderless; there is nowhere for it to go until one of these characters eventually comes back into the picture.
What this means is that, and this is not an exaggeration, the only moments where the film perks up involve the various Italian dishes cooked by the entrepreneurial family at the center, and the mistake-prone protagonist, Halle Bailey’s New Yorker Anna, a once aspiring chef who lost her passionate drive while caretaking her dying mother, moving from one unfulfilling house-sitting job to the next in her palpably felt absence, having all but given up on her dreams because she can’t even muster up the energy to cook without breaking down in tears over her loss. One also might be wondering what the hell this has to do with Tuscany, or how she ends up there.
This film has not one but two meet-cutes, with the first coming when Lorenzo de Moor’s Matteo, a charming man who upped and left the family business, his loved ones, and Italy for more fulfilling adventures in America, meets Anna inside a hotel. A candidate to take over that business, having been gifted his own villa, Matteo abandoned them without saying goodbye, leaving that home uninhabited. Before they part, he does encourage her to get back in touch with her passions, even if it means taking a bold step and traveling to Italy with money she doesn’t have.
A case could be made that the earlier label of “mistake-prone” for Anna was too generous; not only does she go there, but she also doesn’t even bother to look into a cultural summer festival happening that has resulted in every hotel room booked. Her next move (it’s also worth mentioning that nearly every decision she suggests or makes comes with profuse opposition from pregnant bestie Claire, played by Aziza Scott, with her presence mostly coming through text messages) is to take a tiny, cramped, cheap taxi handled by a friendly driver (Marco Calvani), far more willing and eager to listen to her troubles (typically while pulling out a delicious-looking sandwich or mentioning his plumber friend Luigi, because that’s the low-hanging fruit humor the screenplay is working with) than presumably anyone watching this. She takes that taxi to Matteo’s empty villa, squatting there before inadvertently stumbling into a scenario that forces her to use a wedding ring she finds and tries on, to impersonate his nonexistent fiancée when extended family members unexpectedly come by and, naturally, are ready to have her arrested before noticing that on her finger.
That’s not all, as the second meet-cute, which is a rather rude encounter, comes before that in the city with Regé-Jean Page’s Michael, a caretaker of sorts for the villa and the surrounding gardens. His identity and role are unknown to her at the time, but it’s not long before they discover chemistry (here, that means kissing while wet after trying some freshly pulled grapes) with one another while she keeps up the charade. Matteo ran away from the family; Michael (a cousin/brother) ran into it and took on more responsibilities.
Essentially, it’s a film about lying your way into finding a family of belonging and reigniting one’s passions. Even another character begins lying (as said before, this film doubles down on every cliché). Part of the summer festival also involves a ceremonial barrel-pushing activity, which is one of the few amusing scenes here (aside from the occasionally funny taxi driver), in part because I hope Nintendo turns it into a Mario Party minigame. There is also a baffling subplot with one of the family members, trivializing adultery as morally acceptable and hilarious, which makes zero sense, considering something similar happens between other characters and is treated as part of the plot.
Throughout most of You, Me & Tuscany, I wanted either one of those sandwiches or to try one of the dishes, or to actually see Italy in person. The romance part is contrived, exhausting, and dopey with corny, familiar lessons, whereas the comedy is non-existent, boiling down to jokes about how hot Regé-Jean Page is (referred to as “spicy white’s” sexy cousin/brother brother). Tuscany is the only worthwhile character here.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★
Robert Kojder
