Sandra L. Martin

  • Finding Love in San Antonio (2021)

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) As of this writing, eleven days after its TV premiere, there is an exact total of zero reviews, votes or acknowledgement of Finding Love in San Antonio’s existence on the Internet, other than press releases and factual information about its production. (Don’t worry—by the time this review is published, with year-long delays, there ought to be more.)  This is not exactly surprising: As a low-budget romantic comedy made for daytime TV and niche streaming sites, this is not a film meant for popular acclaim, critical attention of anything more than a product fit to be licensed in bulk. It’s innocuous, charming in the most forgettable ways and assembled on a factory line. (Proof? Production company American Cinema International is already putting a “Finding Love in…” series that also covers Mountain View and Big Sky, Montana. That’s after a line of films called “Love Finds You in…”)  Still, I had a rather good time watching Finding Love in San Antonio—as a food-themed daytime romantic comedy, it goes slightly beyond the basic requirements of the genre. It has the welcome distinction of a heavy Hispanic-American component, with most characters being of Latin ethnicity and slinging bits of dialogue in what sounds like fluent Spanish. The film seldom skimps on the food itself (a surprisingly common flaw of other food-themed romantic comedies), and the romantic plot occasionally takes a back-seat to more inclusive familial problems for the protagonist and her entourage. The romance itself isn’t overly cloying and the sights of San Antonio are represented with a great deal of colour and flavour by director Sandra L. Martin. The actors are clearly second-rate, but they’re likable enough to mare it all work, especially Valentina Izarra as she anchors the film as the single-mom chef protagonist. This may not sound like much compared to heavier fare, but when compared to similar films of its kind, Finding Love in San Antonio is slightly more distinctive than most and that’s not too bad for something that will go largely unseen and uncommented by wider audiences. Too bad—sometimes, a little comfort food, slightly spiced, is exactly what hits the spot.

  • Farm to Fork to Love (2021)

    (On TV, August 2021) Send help. I’ll do my part by saying that I’ve got a curiously soft spot for Lifetime/Hallmark romantic comedies, as formulaic as they can be — if they can revolve around a compelling hook (a military cruise, a pumpkin-growing contest, a writer’s block, to name three examples), then that’s enough to get me in. I’m not necessarily saying that I watch these films with undivided attention — one of their strengths is that you can leave for a few minutes and it will be right where you expect it by the time you get back — but they make great videogame background viewing or cleaning/cooking accompaniment. But this is getting ridiculous: One of my “this looks interesting” triggers is food, and it seems as if the networks are on to that: the new hotness is chef-centric romance, and Farm to Fork to Love is the third such film in as many months. Never setting foot in a farm, this is a film about a sous-chef re-hooking with an old flame (coincidentally rich, handsome, talented and related to a matchmaking culinary mogul putting together a context). There are rarely any surprises as to where director Sandra L. Martin is going with that script, although part of the intellectual suspense, I suppose, is seeing how the third act will introduce a meaningless complication out of nowhere, and how Farm to Fork to Love will dispense with the protagonist’s existing boyfriend, who seems to be a decent match. (In the end, they alter his personality so that he turns hilariously inflexible and controlling.)  It’s all, well, analogous to comfort food. Romantic comedies are supposed to be like that—but if I take a step back, I have to wonder why they’re not any better. It doesn’t cost much more to write better scripts and feature better actors — although the truth is that the economics of such films probably don’t allow for fine dialogue or actors that cross the dangerous line between good-looking and gorgeous. Viewers won’t stand for a challenging script or people who remind them of their imperfections. I already know all of this, so why am I watching those films? As I said — send help, or at least better movies.