With classic rom-com tropes mixed in with a trough of new ideas, This Time Next Year knows how to deliver all the vital elements of the genre, yet it just misses the mark. Sophie Cookson and Lucien Laviscount star in this feature as birthday twins, one vexed by the other for “stealing” the name her mother had chosen for her. This fresh idea is the vital ingredient this film needed to prevent it from becoming a carbon copy of many other rom-coms made in recent years, but how does the flick manage to misfire?
Based on the novel by Sophie Cousens, Cookson’s Minnie Cooper (like the car) struggles as much in love as she does with her pie business. Her bad luck, imbued by her change in name according to her mum, follows her everywhere, especially on her birthday which happens to fall on January 1. Minnie was the second baby born on New Year’s Day 1990, just seconds after Quinn Hamilton, portrayed by Laviscount, born in the same hospital. It meant Quinn’s family was the winner of a £50,000 reward, with Minnie’s family narrowly missing out on the cash prize. Events unfold and Minnie and Quinn are drawn back together on one fateful New Year’s Eve—will they put their differences aside in the name of love?
As strange as this concept is, it certainly works in the film’s favour. It sets This Time Next Year apart from others in the rom-com stampede and perhaps even a notch above. Unfortunately, this is let down by a script lacking in any real heart. The actors do what they can, bringing sensitive moments to the surface with adequate performances, but the script cannot be saved. Much of the dialogue feels particularly cringe-worthy. This creates unnatural moments that make for scenes which either feel incredibly restrained or so outlandish it’s challenging to take the story seriously.
As we follow Quinn and Minnie on their journey, being flung together repeatedly—supposedly by fate—we witness the flowering of the friendship between their mothers, Tara (Golda Rosheuvel) and Connie (Monica Dolan). Connie struggles to forgive Tara for stealing the name she had intended for her daughter and resents her for her unearned wealth. Occasionally, the viewer may feel more drawn to Tara and Connie’s story than the main characters’, which is a surprise. However, Rosheuvel’s characterisation injects Tara with a quiet disposition, but bubbling underneath is a fire threatening to break the surface at any moment. Tara’s journey through the story feels more compelling than others as she conquers personal struggles that have plagued her for years.
Set on the streets of London, it would be difficult to miss many well-known locations that show up throughout the film. Although many may not have ever seen the UK capital so colourful, as the screen pops with vibrancy. Dotted among all of this is Cookson and Laviscount, enjoying swims in the park, sharing ice cream, and delivering pies. Their chemistry is undeniable and very much a highlight of this flick, so much so that they make the smaller moments feel all the larger. Every look exchanged between them speaks a thousand words, and director Nick Moore plays this to his advantage.
They are backed up by Mandip Gill as Minnie’s best friend slash finance manager Leila, Will Hislop portraying Minnie’s deadbeat boyfriend Greg, and John Hannah as Keith, Minnie’s doting dad. All give great supporting performances, while letting Cookson and Laviscount enjoy their moment in the sun.
Comedy quite literally makes up half of the success of a rom-com. While the sizzling chemistry can be there in full force, if the comedy falls flat, so does the film. In a few places, This Time Next Year does get it right but these form the exception, not the rule. Many lines of dialogue either kill a joke before it is made or sit in the moment for far too long. The comedy suits some characters better than others, such as Greg whose role was created as comedic relief.
This Time Next Year just isn’t as filling as the pies it features, but at least offers some comfort for its 116-minute runtime. This is a good watch for those seeking a light rom-com experience and predictable escapism. It might be just the ticket for a cosy night in.
This Time Next Year is available on digital platforms June 3