A Tourist’s Guide to Love review: A banal itinerary of film, a vacation with no soul or spark

Steven K Tsuchida's latest is the garden variety of romantic comedy that you have seen way too many of on lazy, lumbering Sundays, that pass off as ambient television at best, the kind that Netflix seems to have an eager eye and an unending enthusiasm for.

As predictable as a Wednesday after a Tuesday and just as dull, it’s the story of Amanda Riley (Rachael Leigh Cook) who works with a travel agency in Los Angeles and has just been dumped by her boyfriend of five years because he needs to move to Ohio for a work opportunity. So, she decides to take off to Vietnam as an undercover secret shopper to check the suitability of a local travel business that her company is interested in buying.

There she meets Sinh Thach (Scott Ly), the tour guide of Saigon Silver Star, the local sightseeing travel business her company Tourista World Travel wants to acquire to help them tap into Vietnam’s booming tourism market. I was weary about watching this film after seeing its trailer. But then I decided to go in with the hope that maybe, just maybe, even within the limiting structure of a dreamy, life-altering vacation romance, it may have some fresh insight, some spectacular views of Vietnam’s scenic beauty, or an interesting take on travel or love to offer. But 'A Tourist’s Guide to Love' disappoints across every front; it could easily contend for the most uninspired and hackneyed entry in this genre, the kind you forget entirely about a few hours after watching it.

There is a lot of talk in the film about treading off the beaten path but all its creative choices scream the exact opposite. Almost all of Sinh’s dialogues feel like annoying WhatsApp forwards that even sexagenarians stopped reading 10 years ago. Sample some, “Get out of your comfort zone, live in the moment, go with the flow.” “This city is more than a list of tourist attractions to be checked off.” “It’s not just another tourist site. It’s an experience.” “You open up yourself to new possibilities, you’ll be surprised where life can take you.” “Embrace the mystery.” The list is endless.

When not WhatsApp forwards, they feel like corny quotes stolen from mugs and tees that no one buys anymore. It’s so ridiculous that at one point, Amanda tells him, “Don’t say anything deep or metaphorical about that.” I think she mistook deep for trite.

The same is the case with Jon Keng’s cinematography. Vietnam through his lens looks nothing of the paradise that the film wants you to believe it is and that you know it is. The characters keep getting dumbstruck with awe and wonder but you keep wondering why because none of the country’s stunning beauty translates on screen. Within 95 minutes, Tsuchida takes you through some of the most popular scenic destinations—Ho Chi Minh City, Hoi An, Da Nang, and Ha Noi.

The film even takes a detour to include My Son Sanctuary and Chang village but I have seen Vietnam done infinitely better. I’m not even talking about other films but travel influencers on Instagram, the bar is so low here.

It doesn’t help that there is absolutely no chemistry between the leads. Amanda and Sinh’s scenes together have no steam, spark, or soul. Cook and Ly’s performances are so jaded, they feel wooden. I don’t remember the last time I saw such a lackluster romance on screen. Oh, wait. Reese Witherspoon and Ashton Kutcher’s Your Place or Mine (another Netflix disaster that released earlier this year) comes close. But this one trumps even that.

However, the one thing that this Netflix snooze fest does get right is the support cast. Amanda finds ready company in a new country among a diverse lot of fellow travelers. There’s an endearing black lesbian couple who has come for a vacation with their spunky teen daughter, there is an old pair who has been married for 40 years but could not scour the resources for a honeymoon earlier, and there’s a white teen boy who constantly live streams his experiences for his grandfather and his friends stuck in an old-age home in the US, unable to travel, living vicariously through him. It’s a charming group.

But my favorite has to be Sinh’s grandmother Ba Noi. She is a delight to watch. An absolute marshmallow of a woman with an open heart, a penchant for straight talk, and an incredibly warm, winning smile, she reminded me of my own guileless grandma—my naani—and the way she’d dote on her grandchildren every time we visited her during summer break. It’s been over five years since she passed away but I still feel her presence and absence in every corner every time I visit her house in Odisha. She took my summer vacations with her.

The heart of this film, if there is any, is in its periphery. The center is filled with moments such as Amanda running through the traffic when the pavements are empty or her shouting her lungs out from across the street when she could have just made a call. Or her boss saying, “Look I have been married nine times. I know the signs, Don’t question me.”

In the build-up to the climax, Amanda’s ex sa, "This feels like this could have been an email." I agree. He speaks for all of us, there could not have been a more appropriate summation of this film. The email would be short, all of two sentences. It would read, "The idea has been regurgitated way too many times. Not worth the effort."