This Time Next Year

This Time Next Year marks the directorial return of Nick Moore, his first film since 2014’s Pudsey the Dog: The Movie. Following a chance meeting in a club bathroom, Minnie (Sophie Cookson) and Quinn (Lucien Laviscount) find out they were born in the same hospital on the same day (1^st January 1990). Whereas this fortuity has spelled nothing but good fortune for Quinn, Minnie has been plagued by a seemingly endless succession of bad luck. However, Quinn’s re-emergence in Minnie’s life may break this spell of bad karma.

Moore knows a thing or two about the rom-com, the veteran editor having worked on Richard Curtis classics Notting Hill and Love Actually. But the cinematic landscape has changed drastically since those late 90s and early 00s films came out. The breathless, jittery working girl trope has been done to death in rom-com land, as has the inevitable development of said working girl meeting her soulmate in the form of a corporate hunk. But while this formula may have worked with, say, Jennifer Aniston or Julia Roberts as the pernickety lead, This Time Next Year feels more like a Hallmark holiday romance than a contemporary, cosmopolitan take on the genre. For a comedy, it’s also distinctly lacking in humour. A scene of classic misunderstanding, in which Minnie and Quinn are caught in the throes of a steamy encounter, is one of the few scenes of genuine amusement. The filmmakers also inexplicably throw in a few quirky cutaways à la twee late 2000s indie flick, again exemplifying its tired pastiche.

Some of the characterisations are noticeably flat. Minnie’s work colleague Fleur, who at one point appears to be cosplaying Tank Girl, is an insufferable caricature of how an older person would perceive a Zillennial. However, John Hannah and Monica Dolan shine as Minnie’s supportive parents. Likewise, Golda Rosheuvel gives a sensitively nuanced performance as Quinn’s mother, a woman who appears to have it all but hides a deep-seated trauma.

Touching on themes of Millennial ennui, such as exorbitant rents, moving back in with one’s parents and the pitfalls of the grind, This Time Next Year had the opportunity to offer real insight into the struggles of 30-something Londoners. However, the film, unfortunately, falls into familiar, and ultimately reductive, territory.   

Antonia Georgiou

This Time Next Year is released digitally on demand on 3^rd June 2024.

Watch the trailer for This Time Next Year here: