You, Me & Tuscany flies to Italy on autopilot
Halle Bailey and Regé-Jean Page have everything going for their rom-com, but that potential is compressed into a postcard.
Photo: Universal Pictures
In You, Me & Tuscany, Anna (Halle Bailey) is a broke housesitter squandering her potential. She’s a trained chef, but her career was put on the back-burner after her mother died, and now she throws herself into the temporary luxury of other people’s lives. On a fateful trip to a New York hotel bar, where her bestie Claire (Aziza Scott) has promised she can charge her phone, she meets Matteo (Lorenzo de Moor), a drop-dead gorgeous Italian real estate broker. They hit it off, but while Matteo’s jetlag prevents them from having a one-night stand, the memory of his unoccupied, beyond-picturesque Tuscan villa lingers in Anna’s mind, a North Star that reanimates her love for Italian cuisine, culture, and climate.
This is where things get messy, and for the film’s purposes, exciting: There is no room available at his village when she arrives, so Anna crashes in Matteo’s villa, knowing it’s empty—and when Matteo’s agitated Italian family discovers the American squatter, she is saved by a family heirloom engagement ring that she put on after rooting through Matteo’s things. Naturally, they assume she’s Matteo’s fiance. As it seems to be the only way to avoid being arrested, Anna confirms their assumption. The rest of You, Me & Tuscany is spent adding tension to this convoluted lie—not least being the addition of Matteo’s winegrower cousin Michael (Regé-Jean Page), who resents Matteo for abandoning his family and happens to be a much better fit for Anna.
You, Me & Tuscany gets its genre fundamentals correct—this is a terrific rom-com premise, as absurd as it is titillating, loaded with conflict that promises to lead to a happy ending. But if You, Me & Tuscany gets the peppy, frivolous basics right, its brushwork is way off. The film is only truly successful if you watch it from the middle distance, where it’s easy to conclude that it resembles a good rom-com without having to diagnose its atrocious visual design, tropey plotting, and queasy comedy for what it is—a tired, flat mishandling of high-potential material.
This is Halle Bailey’s first lead role since playing Ariel in the live-action The Little Mermaid, and she brings a similar peppy enthusiasm (with far less naïveté) to Anna. From the moment she arrives on vacation, Anna is chipper and forthright, but while she’s savvy enough to save her skin with the engagement lie, she balks at the repeated opportunities to confess her deception. Anna is a well-rounded stab at a rom-com protagonist—someone who knows the value of chasing her desires but lacks the conviction and integrity to be honest with the people she’s deceived in the process. Anna is so happy with the vibes—the picturesque locale, Matteo’s eccentric and adoring family, the luxury of this new, fake life, the food—that she won’t push back against the boundaries of this too-good-to-be-true fantasy.