There’s a very specific kind of cinematic daydream that films like Under the Tuscan Sun perfected – sun-drenched escapism where heartbreak is healed by good wine, better views, and the promise of reinvention. You, Me & Tuscany clearly wants to bottle that same vintage. The problem is, somewhere along the way, it forgets that charm can’t be manufactured by algorithm.
Directed by Kat Coiro (who far more successfully executed the Jennifer Lopez-romancer Marry Me) and produced by Will Packer (Girl’s Trip), the film follows Anna (Halle Bailey), a drifting New Yorker whose life has stalled out after personal loss. Once an aspiring chef, she now floats between house-sitting gigs, trying on other people’s lives instead of building her own. When one such job implodes, Anna makes a rash, last-ditch decision: she flies to Tuscany, chasing the fantasy sold to her by a fleeting romantic encounter with a charming Italian stranger, Matteo (Lorenzo De Moor).
That impulsive leap sets the film’s central contrivance in motion. Arriving with no plan and nowhere to stay, Anna breaks into the very villa she was told about (Matteo spoke of how it’s sitting there in the Italian countryside, empty, which understandably sounds like an invitation to visit) – only to be caught by his family and, in a moment of panic, pass herself off as the prodigal son’s fiancée. It’s the kind of high-concept lie that rom-coms thrive on (Housesitter, anyone?), but here it never quite evolves beyond a mechanical plot device. Instead of escalating into farce or genuine emotional complication, it just… sits there, waiting for the inevitable unraveling.
There are glimmers of a better film scattered throughout. Bailey is an inherently watchable presence, bringing warmth and sincerity to a character that’s more concept than person. You understand Anna’s yearning, even if the script rarely deepens it beyond surface-level “quarter-life crisis” beats. Similarly, Regé-Jean Page – playing Michael, the brooding, conveniently available cousin – has the kind of old-school movie star ease that should make this material sing. But their chemistry never quite catches fire. It’s pleasant, polite, and entirely forgettable – more a suggestion of romance than something you can actually feel.
Part of the issue is how rigidly the film sticks to the rom-com playbook, ticking off familiar beats without adding any real texture. Even by the forgiving standards of the genre, the predictability here feels especially pronounced; you’re not so much watching the story unfold as waiting for it to catch up to where you already know it’s going. At 105 minutes, it’s also surprisingly slack – scenes drift by without momentum, and the film resists the kind of heightened comedic chaos that might have at least justified its runtime.
And then there’s Tuscany itself. Or rather, the idea of Tuscany. For a film so dependent on location as a selling point, it’s oddly flat to look at. Too many shots have a glossy, almost artificial sheen, as if the actors are performing in front of a postcard rather than inhabiting a real place. The landscapes are undeniably beautiful, but they’re framed with so little imagination that they might as well be stock footage. The result is a film that’s visually bright but emotionally airless.
The supporting cast doesn’t help matters much. The family Anna ingratiates herself with leans heavily into caricature, with broad, occasionally grating performances that feel less like affectionate homage and more like outdated stereotype; Stella Pecollo the biggest culprit here as the sexpot-lite auntie, Francesca. There’s an especially forced bubbliness to some of the comic relief that undercuts whatever sincerity the film is aiming for. Even the humour itself is in short supply – despite a premise ripe for misunderstandings and escalating lies, the film rarely finds a comedic rhythm.
And yet, it’s not entirely without appeal. There’s something inherently comforting about this kind of story, and You, Me & Tuscany occasionally taps into that easygoing watchability. It’s painless, undemanding, and intermittently sweet, particularly when it allows Anna’s journey to centre on self-worth rather than romance. There’s a better version of this film – one that leans harder into either its emotional honesty or its comic absurdity – lurking just beneath the surface.
As it stands, though, it’s a glossy imitation of a formula that requires a lighter touch and a stronger point of view. It wants to sell you the fantasy of getting lost and finding yourself somewhere beautiful. But everything about it feels so pre-packaged, so carefully assembled, that you never quite believe in the spontaneity it’s trying to celebrate.
Sometimes the wrong place is exactly where you need to be. This just isn’t quite the right film to take you there.
TWO STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
You, Me & Tuscany is now screening in Australian theatres, before opening in the United States on April 10th.
