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Love, Rosie's early charm fades by the end, given that, as time (and the movie) wears on, neither Rosie nor Alex get any more mature when it comes to matters of the heart.
Watching lifelong friends, clearly destined for each other, miss the romantic boat over and over is entertaining at first, but soon their tortuous and silly road to the inevitable provokes only impatience.
The two leads have absolutely no chemistry. Claflin (The Hunger Games) has Hugh Grant's chiselled jaw but none of his comic flair, while Collins comes across as yet another doe-eyed English rose.
Do you really want to expose your adolescent daughter to 100 minutes of the beautiful Lily Collins accepting second-best, over and over and over and over and over and over and over again?
A visually pleasing film, given to framing the characters in dappled sunlight that peeks through windblown leaves. It's a pity the rest of the project is so poorly executed.
Love, Rosie succeeds well enough on its own, largely due to the fabulous chemistry between the leads, who bring their flawed, well-rounded characters to life in a funny, warm and amiable manner.
"Love, Rosie" is one of those annoying movies in which everything would be just fine if the two central characters had a simple conversation that cleared up all their misunderstandings.