Rye Lane (2023)

The trailer for Rye Lane does the film a disservice, suggesting it’s a quirky, whimsical comedy firmly set in the box ticking setting of 2023. What a welcome surprise then, to find that Raine Allen-Miller’s film is a real treat, cleverly using the canvas of said box ticking to satirise the very film it itself could have been.

David Jonsson’s Dom has just lost his long time girlfriend to his best friend, and is heard crying in a toilet cubical by Vivian Oparah’s Yas, who is also recovering from a recent break up. Using a gentrified Peckham to excellent effect, the film spends most of its time wandering the streets with the two leads as they hit it off and spend the day together bonding over their recent life experiences.

In one particularly excellent scene, Yas accompanies Dom to a meet up with his ex and her new boyfriend; a rendezvous that should have been excruciating, but with Yas there it ends up being truly hilarious, and ends with a sort of liberation for both of them as they leave the restaurant with a new found connection to each other.

There are comparisons to be drawn with Justin Kerrigan’s Human Traffic (1999) mainly in the wide shots that frequently appear, but also the largely one-time setting of the film.

There are intelligent references and music usage throughout Rye Lane; this is a director who knows exactly what she’s doing, despite this being her full-length debut feature. Invoking Richard Curtis in a rom-com is a risky thing to do even at the best of times, yet Rye Lane pulls it off with aplomb and is arguably a better film than the Curtis film it openly references.

Let’s not get carried away; Four Weddings and A Funeral this is not, but then again what is? Allen-Miller has produced a story that may be far from original, but the way in which she’s achieved this is hugely impressive, and where she goes from here is anyone’s guess. 7.8/10