You, Me and Tuscany

The third is by far the most compelling of the title characters in You, Me and Tuscany, which squanders some stunning scenery on shallow people who block the view.

This quirky romantic comedy is really more of a fantasy, dependent entirely on reckless impulses and eye-rolling contrivances while offering only the slightest cultural twist on a well-worn formula.

The result is a collection of fish-out-of-water cliches and stereotypes that provide some scattered surface laughs but leave this exotic travelogue funneling toward the most obvious of narrative destinations.

Anna (Halle Bailey) is an aimless New York millennial still grieving the death of her mother, which led to her dropping out of culinary school. Having just lost her housesitting job, Anna meets Matteo (Lorenzo de Moor), an Italian with real-estate connections who shows her photos of his family’s lavish Tuscan villa, which happens to be sitting empty.

Needing a fresh start yet strapped for cash, Anna flies to Italy and finds the property, crashing for a night before she’s discovered by Matteo’s shocked relatives. So she crafts a story about being Matteo’s fiancée, which prompts a mix of celebration and skepticism.

As she is welcomed into the family and blends with the small-town eccentrics, Anna meets Michael (Rene-Jean Page), a winemaker and Matteo’s adopted cousin, who becomes the object of her desire. Eventually the truth must come out. But will creating a fake life abroad give new meaning to her real one back home?

The screenplay doesn’t dwell on such questions, opting to emphasize broad hijinks, cute animal sidekicks, tiny cars, and romps through the vineyards perfectly timed with the sprinklers.

There are some fleeting charms mostly due to Bailey (The Little Mermaid), whose bubbly charisma makes Anna likeable, if not very believable. Her character’s naivete feels more desperate than genuinely curious as she navigates language barriers and mistaken identities in predictable fashion.

Directed by Kat Coiro (Marry Me), the film otherwise misses opportunities to distinguish itself, lacking sufficient depth in the assembly-line supporting roles, the insight into local customs, or the friction and kinship of blended families.

Along the way, the sun-drenched visuals help to reinforce the allure of the popular tourist getaway. Here’s hoping new bookings aren’t forced to endure You, Me and Tuscany on the plane.

Rated PG-13, 104 minutes.