Rye Lane (2023)

Rye Lane feels like a rom-com that’s been given fresh air and a fast heartbeat: a one-day South London odyssey shot with swagger, color, and a playful visual wit that makes even awkward silences feel alive. Raine Allen-Miller turns heartbreak into something buoyant and kinetic, while David Jonsson and Vivian Oparah spark with the kind of chemistry that isn’t manufactured so much as discovered in real time—messy, funny, and disarmingly tender. The movie’s humor comes from specificity and character, not cheap punchlines, and its sense of place is so vivid you can practically hear the market chatter between scenes. If you prefer your romance slow-burn and sedate, this might feel a little hyper and stylized, but if you want a smart, modern love story that actually remembers to be joyful, it’s an easy yes.

Rye Lane is clearly trying to be a bright, modern London riff on the one-day rom-com, with two bruised twenty-somethings bouncing through South London as they talk themselves back into hope. When it works, it’s charmingly shot, funny in a scrappy way, and the leads have enough spark to keep the day moving. But if you’re allergic to rom-com coincidences, big “meet-cute” energy, and a script that sometimes leans on familiar beats instead of earning the feelings, you may find the emotional core a bit thin. It also paints London in a heightened, caricatured way, so if you want something more grounded or deeply romantic, this might feel more like a stylish vibe piece than a love story that truly lands.