Film Review: "Book of Love" Poorly Mixes Telenovelas and Hallmark Movies
Romantic comedies are going back to their roots. Gone are the days of shrubby white guys wearing down women who are entirely out of their league. Fans of the genre can finally enjoy watching seemingly nice-looking people falling in and out and back in love again. And thanks to films like To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before and The Lovebirds, romantic leads and their stories are much more diverse too. Though the state of rom-coms have improved, not every movie is a hit. Book of Love has a premise that is ripe with drama and intrigue. However, the film’s poor attempt at blending telenovelas and Hallmark movie tropes and its star-cross lovers’ lack of chemistry prevents it from soaring.
Book of Love begins with Henry (Sam Claflin) as he reads his newly released novel to a nearly empty crowd in a London bookstore. After reading his book to an audience of one, the writer receives a phone call from his literary agent to discuss his future. During the meeting, his agent Jen (Lucy Punch), tells him that his book is a bestseller in Mexico. As a result of Henry’s success, his agent forces him to travel to San Cristobal de las Casas to help market the book with the writer who translated it into Spanish. However, Henry discovers that his translator, single mother Maria (Verónica Echegui), completely changed his book into a steamy erotica. Now the disgruntled writer must work with Maria and his Mexican literary agent Pedro (Horacio Villalobos) to keep up the ruse. Although Henry and Maria are completely different, the two writers realize they have more in common than they think. But unbeknownst to them, Maria’s jealous ex-partner and father of her son Antonio (Horacio García Rojas) plans to expose them.
It is admirable that director/writer Analeine Cal y Mayor and writer David Quantick attempt to bridge the gap between telenovelas and Hallmark films with Book of Love. But the creatives fail at seamlessly connecting the two genres. The characters may say their unique circumstances are like a telenovela, but it reads more like a traditional American rom-com. Sure, the flick includes a love triangle, a fiery fight ending with a kiss, and enemies to lovers dilemma within two hours. However, the story has very little passion or excitement, which is an essential component of Spanish soap operas. Unfortunately, the issue is that the writers are afraid to lean into the genre’s tropes. And so, the story feels weak.
Along with the lukewarm story, the leads cannot carry the film. Claflin does a decent job as Henry. The performer gives good cranky book nerd, mainly when he complains about the changes in his book. But the actor does not have nearly enough charisma and spark. Unfortunately, he is no Hugh Grant, Paul Rudd, or Kristen Stewart. Echegui does give a stronger performance as the aspiring writer, Maria. Her backstory as a single mother struggling to become a writer is more interesting than Henry’s failure to write an engaging book. Yet, the two leads do not have an ounce of chemistry. They come off more like close friends than lovers despite their intimate moments. Maria has more romantic tension with her ex-partner and father of her child than with the bland Brit.
Unfortunately, the side characters do not fare any better either. Though it is great that the writers include Pedro, an openly queer character, it is disingenuous that they reduce him to the “Gay Best Friend.” Unlike the leads, the literary agent does not have an arc or love interest to call his own. Granted, Villalobos does his best with the material. For instance, his teardown of Henry and Maria’s messy predicament with their book is delightful to watch. Rojas also plays a solid villain as Antonio. His cartoonish schemes and antagonistic nature towards the writers are the film’s best parts. But as for Maria’s son Diego and grandfather Max (Ruy Gaytan and Fernando Becerril), they add very little to the film. They are just cute window dressing for the most part.
It is terrific to see romantic comedies moving away from tired male-centric stories to tales that center on the needs and wants of women. But if the genre wants viewers to take it seriously again, it needs to develop better content. Book of Love may be pretty to look at, but it does not live up to its potential.
