Metacritic-Rezensionen

As a story that’s more about finding oneself than finding love, Lonely Planet is a thoughtful and heartfelt meditation on how identity and love are intertwined, and how the most unlikely connection with others can serve as a mirror to the best parts of ourselves we’ve been avoiding.

The fact that the movie has zero stakes and unfolds in one low emotional key is part of its appeal—the sort of subgenre known as “cozy romance” in publishing parlance.

From the opening scene right until the wholly expected finale, Lonely Planet is pure romantic-drama escapism. It’s so thin that if the original material had been in book form, that book would have been a pamphlet.

It’s better, more grounded and self-aware than expected, enough to overcome the cliches and occasionally clunky dialogue. It’s a mostly enjoyable addition to the welcome sub-genre about 40-plus, desiring women as considered, desirable subjects.

The film is melancholic and contemplative in a way that isn’t always the case with romance genre films.

While many of the picture’s finer details are in desperate need of ironing out, the wrinkles within these two characters’ lives are compelling enough.

While Grant’s film nails certain elements necessary to the genre (like casting a pair of likable, capable stars who generate some real heat), the film is also prone to falling into just as many bad habits and limp tropes synonymous with big screen romance.

Neither dull enough to be painful nor fun enough to be engaging, it’s simply too bland to make much of an impression at all.

For this to work, the relationship needs a certain element of inevitability and comfort. Theirs is stilted.

Halloween is fast approaching and Netflix has very generously stitched together a chilling Frankenstein’s monster of a rom-com sure to keep audiences awake all night in a cold sweat.