Love & Gelato

If you spent any time on Netflix in the early 2020s, you’re well aware of the "Streaming Travelogue"—those glossy, sun-drenched romances that look like they were filmed through an Instagram filter named 'Aperol Spritz.' They exist to provide high-definition escapism for people who haven't left their couch in three days. Love & Gelato (2022) is the quintessential example of this era: a film that arrived with the built-in hype of a bestselling YA novel, hovered in the Top 10 for exactly one weekend, and then seemingly evaporated from the collective consciousness.

I watched this while sitting in my apartment with a bowl of overcooked penne that I’d definitely forgotten to salt, which felt like a very grim, low-budget contrast to the five-star Roman feast happening on my television.

A Pinterest Board in Motion

The story follows Lina Emerson, played by newcomer Susanna Skaggs, a high-achieving math nerd whose life plan involves MIT and very few variables. When her mother passes away, Lina is sent to Rome to live with Howard (Owen McDonnell, who played the long-suffering Niko in Killing Eve), a man who turns out to be more than just a family friend. Guided by her mother’s old diary, Lina navigates the cobblestone streets, trying to understand her mom’s past while avoiding the romantic advances of every handsome man in Italy.

Director Brandon Camp (who also directed the Jennifer Aniston vehicle Love Happens) treats Rome like a co-star. The cinematography by Thomas Scott Stanton is genuinely lovely—it’s a travel brochure with a grieving protagonist super-imposed over the Colosseum. Everything is golden, the architecture is breathtaking, and the gelato looks so creamy it should probably have its own SAG card. If you’re looking for a movie that makes you want to immediately check your bank balance for flight funds, this succeeds brilliantly.

The Great Book-to-Screen Vanishing Act

Why did this film fall into the "obscure" bin so quickly despite being based on Jenna Evans Welch’s beloved book? The answer usually lies with the fans. In the contemporary streaming era, a built-in audience is a double-edged sword. Brandon Camp’s screenplay made some massive departures from the source material—specifically regarding the character of Howard and the central mystery of Lina’s father. For the book's loyalists, these changes were the narrative equivalent of ordering a Margherita pizza and getting a pineapple topping.

Because the film alienated its core fanbase while being perhaps too "standard" for general critics, it lacked the legs to become a "legacy" Netflix rom-com like To All the Boys I've Loved Before. It’s a shame, because Susanna Skaggs is a delight. She has a frantic, slightly awkward energy that reminded me of a young Anne Hathaway. She manages to make the "clumsy nerd" trope feel less like a cliché and more like a genuine personality trait.

Boys, Bikes, and Backstories

The romance is split between two very different archetypes. There’s Alessandro (Saul Nanni), the wealthy, "perfect" rich boy who seems like he stepped out of a Dolce & Gabbana ad, and Lorenzo (Tobia De Angelis), the aspiring chef who shares Lina’s love for secret spots and hidden flavors. Tobia De Angelis is the standout here; his chemistry with Skaggs is sweet and grounded, providing the few moments of "drama" that actually feel earned.

However, the film often struggles to balance its heavy themes—grief, abandonment, and identity—with its desire to be a lighthearted romp. It often feels like the emotional equivalent of a flavored seltzer: it’s bubbly and refreshing in the moment, but there’s not much of an aftertaste. The grief subplot involving the diary occasionally feels like it’s getting in the way of the next beautiful shot of the Pantheon, rather than driving the character's growth.

Apparently, the production actually filmed during the tail end of the pandemic, which might explain why Rome looks suspiciously clean and uncrowded. There's an ethereal, almost dreamlike quality to the city that doesn't quite match reality, but then again, who watches a Netflix rom-com for gritty realism? We’re here for the Vespa rides and the midnight pasta.

Love & Gelato is a harmless, beautiful piece of "content" that serves as a perfect 5-minute-test winner. It’s easy on the eyes, featuring charming turns from Valentina Lodovini and Anjelika Washington, even if the script feels a bit like it was generated by an algorithm trying to calculate "The Perfect Summer." It’s the kind of movie you enjoy while folding laundry, only to realize two days later that you can’t quite remember how it ended—though you’ll definitely remember the gelato.