Little Italy (2018)
(On TV, April 2022) As far as food-based romantic comedies go, Little Italy shouldn’t be mistaken for the lower-grade stuff made for TV – it’s not great art, but’s a bit spicier, more ambitious and more successful than its Hallmark channel equivalents. The increased budget shows, both in narrative structure (complete with an opening sequence presenting our protagonist as kids), the pedigree of the director (Donald Petrie, who has a few big-budgeted romantic comedies on his filmography) and in the grade of actors: Hayden Christensen, Emma Roberts and Danny Aiello aren’t the biggest stars around, but they are recognizable name actors, and they help make the film just that much better. (It’s also rated R for some language and racy content – a significant difference!) Set in Toronto’s Little Italy, the film follows a young woman as she comes back from a culinary apprenticeship in London and rediscovers what happened to the neighbourhood during her years away: A feud has split the local pizzeria scene, her best friend as a kid has become an attractive man. The rest of Little Italy is familiar (all the way to, yes, a chase to the airport). But it’s the execution that makes it likable, whether it’s some saucy dialogue, likable character moments or the immersion in Toronto’s colourful multicultural matrix – even if the film doesn’t bother hiding its cultural stereotypes. It’s not much (and looking at the scathing reviews earned by the film, it’s clear that critics were comparing it to mainstream fare rather than the made-for-TV romantic comedies) but there’s a quasi-nostalgic throwback to Little Italy, which feels as if it could have been made ten or fifteen years earlier. I don’t necessarily think it’s that great, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.