‘You, Me, and Tuscany’ Chronicles The Traveling Black Girl

 

Me, You, and Tuscany film poster. 

Kat Coiro’s Me, You, and Tuscany provides a refreshing escape to gorgeous scenic Italy, a dream for Anna (The Little Mermaid’s Halle Bailey) and a livelihood for Michael (Bridgerton season one’s Regé-Jean Page). Ryan and Kristin Engle’s co-written screenplay fights against a formulaic nature— as far as romantic dramedies go. One saving grace examines how holding onto grief can have not only a suitcase, it has a passport too. A mourner prefers to travel everywhere with infinite sadness and sometimes infinite sadness mixed with questionable choices. Anna has been doing the most as an Atlanta born, New Yorker, trying out people’s lives for size as a house sitter— employment that screams temporary and unsettled. After the passing of her mother (played in flashback photographs by Joy Bryant aka Cherish the Day’s Chef Sunday St. James), Anna breezily floats through daily routines, masking her pain in charades. 

And there’s consequences to internalizing pain. 

Brash decision maker Anna (Halle Bailey) takes in the sights. DP: Danny Ruhlmann.

When the opportunity comes for Anna to take her act on a bigger scale— in Tuscany—she sees it as kismet. Anna’s late mother already purchased her a plane ticket and the poor girl has five hundred dollars burning a hole in an otherwise nonexistent wallet. The poetic sentiment is that, yes, broke and broken Anna has no real luxuries or grand wealth. There’s this eccentric belief that impoverished people don’t deserve nice things, that they should be grateful for what they can afford— don’t go above and beyond, a notion historically reserved for Black people. Anna—a few credits shy off graduating culinary school— needed a carpe diem moment and seized a courage missing from herself, choosing to fly solo on the other side of the world and taste the fantasy she and her mother had originally planned. The best parts are Anna strolling around in lovely outfits, cherishing the countryside, breathing it all in, expressing pure joy and contentment. Her contagious excitement saturates every scene, making it all the more believable that an entire family could fall in love with her. She’s an utterly radiant gem even when lying through her teeth. 

Anna (Halle Bailey) and Michael (Regé-Jean Page) with the fresh fare for the family restaurant. DP: Danny Ruhlmann.

Enter Michael— the British born man who adores his adopted Italian family— is a “Mr. Steal Your Sandwich” with a touch of a “Mr. Steal Your Girl” type. He’s attractive on the eyes with a deep English accent that’s sure to boil over fine olive oil and quite serious about family, wine, and Mario’s Let Me Love You— a twenty-two-year-old R&B ballad. Sadness lingers about Michael too, wielding around him like a protective shield—a key similarity that he and Anna have in common. Although he lost his biological parents way before her, grief never ever truly fades. Michael’s initial distrust of Anna gradually dissolves over the three day course. 

However, Michael is farther along in life than Anna, staying on an impressive vineyard, operating the vast lands with a pet pig on deck— so he’s financially sound and probably well traveled. Anna has only just begun to follow her passion, a flower on the verge of blossoming. Power imbalance situations are not best in reality. They’re quickly falling for each other through significant glances, lingering touches, and speak briefly on grief. They don’t have heavier conversations, primarily on their current life positions. Michael had scoffed at Anna being at house sitter and Anna made fun of his intense demeanor. 

Despite the youthful appearance of Anna and Michael’s portrayers Halle Bailey and Regé-Jean Page, there is a twelve year age gap between them. Consider great films such as Kathleen Collins’s Losing Ground, leading lady Seret Scott (Sara) was fifteen years younger than Bill Gunn (Victor) and twelve years younger than Duane Jones (Duke). Ever After, one of cinema’s best Cinderella adaptations features Drew Barrymore’s Daniela and Dougray Scott as Prince Henry, a ten year age gap between the actors. Every Jane Eyre adaptation must have a gap (personal favorite is the Ruth Wilson and Toby Stephens version, thirteen year age gap). Small potatoes compared to the twenty-five-year gap for Charade or the eighteen years in Pretty Woman. Bailey and Page do have chemistry, but the screenplay does not warrant enough to be memorable beyond its time. 

Anna (Halle Bailey) and her dear friend Claire (Aziza Scott) eating good in Matteo’s dime. DP: Danny Ruhlmann.

“Don’t call me from no Italian jail!” exclaims Claire, a real friend. DP: Danny Ruhlmann.

Side character girlfriends are usually single women living vicariously through the main girl (i.e. every character Lisa Nicole Carson Nicole Carson plays in the 90s). Claire (Aziza Scott), a happily married soon-to-be mom, works at a prestigious hotel where she’s obviously given Anna help whenever possible. Claire is reminiscent of Courtney Taylor’s Grace in The Invitation— funny and blunt one-liner deliverer yet stays behind while bestie puts herself in potential overseas danger. Grace calls Evie to ensure she’s okay (in vampire territory) and Claire provides the same for Anna (nothing supernatural but real-life monsters are present). Anna also gets a sassy male soundboard for the remainder of the film (and he has more scenes than Claire). Maybe we could get a Claire prequel, Me, You, and the Caribbean Cruise— let’s see how Anna’s dearest friend scored her own bae. Claire’s “convenient” pregnancy bars her from an ending similar to Evie and Grace (the best part of a terrible film). 

Anna and Michael sweetly run across the endless fields. DP: Danny Ruhlmann.

Matteo is the main gripe— the epitome sufferer from clunky writing. He’s the catalyst for Anna’s decision making and also prodigal son and short term villain? First, Matteo’s failed seduction attempt at the hotel bar turns into Anna’s encouragement to follow her dreams. It also turns out he’s been gone for a little over a year yet the family acts as if he’s been gone for decades. Then again, maybe that’s how close-knit families tend to behave. Anna lost her mother in the same time frame and hid her grief behind drifting nowhere. Still, Matteo returns home, issues Anna two ultimatums within a day. Meanwhile, Matteo’s ex-fiancée is conveniently all over him— and this storyline goes into predictable territory. Also, Matteo’s behavior at the races makes a person wonder why did the family miss this obnoxious jerk so much? His only saving grace was allowing a reluctant Anna to bestow her dormant kitchen talents even though he had never tasted her food before. 

Still, the highlights involve Anna truly coming into her own, becoming a culinary cook that her mother would have been proud to see. Oftentimes, an unfamiliar environment can either bring out the need to be another person (as Anna sought out to do) or enrich the potential longing to break out of them. Anna’s self reflection, her realizing her strengths was almost stronger than the instant romance between her and Michael. 

Anna is no longer afraid of getting her edges wet. DP: Danny Ruhlmann.

Overall, Me, You, and Tuscany plays it a little safe and expectant. The film contains funny, relatable, and charming moments, some titillating pleasures for those desiring unrealistic fantasies that chick flicks promise. The cinematography gives a gratifying look at rich, splendorous Italian scenery through Anna’s wide expressive eyes and the soundtrack includes a catchy Leela James song in addition to a lovely callback of Page and Bailey both singing Mario. It’s definitely directed towards the spirited Black girls and Black women who dare to freely roam the earth as time and money are both limited, obtaining knowledge in all the ways that guarantees valid and valuable experiences. Stay to witness Anna’s therapeutic journey through seeing a new culture up close and personal and building community with the people around her. Of course, remain seated for the hilarious end credit scenes adding another barrel of laughs.