Matthew Lopez’s Red, White & Royal Blue – adapted from the massively popular 2019 novel of the same name by Casey McQuiston – is the latest addition to the recent wave of lighthearted, fun, and unapologetic LGBTQ+ media.
In it, the first son of the United States, Alex Claremont-Diaz (The Kissing Booth‘s Taylor Zakhar Perez) and the grandson of the king of England, Prince Henry (Purple Hearts‘ Nicholas Galitzine) fall in love from opposite sides of the Atlantic while navigating being queer in the public eye.
It’s the gay answer to early 2000s teen-oriented rom-coms, complete with silly depictions of real-world politics a la Princess Diaries, and the star-crossed passionate love story of a Nicholas Sparks adaption. While the main focus definitely falls on the latter, there’s an earnest attempt at making the story mean something beyond the allure of heart-fluttering romance.
In the intervals of all the smooching (a creative decision in itself fearless given the repressed history of explicit homosexual affection onscreen), there are conversations had – successful to varying degrees – about familial and societal expectations, as well as the coming out experience, regardless of status. Had the film found a more sophisticated voice with which to approach this side of the story, it would have been truly fantastic. Instead, it nails its comedic tone for the most part, aided by fun creative directorial and editing decisions, but is often lacking in the emotional depth required of the more serious scenes and topics.
The root cause is in its fan-fiction style of dialogue which tends to work better on paper than when said out loud, with the fine line separating corny and forced from genuine and emotional infamously hard to navigate within the romance genre. In the end, Red, White & Royal Blue almost always stands on the edge of the less flattering side of the two.
Its troupe of supporting characters ranges from delicious, like Uma Thurman’s southern belle American President, and Sarah Shahi as her no-nonsense right arm, to archetypal and disappointing as is the main villain of the story — an evil journalist played by Juan Castano.
Despite its shortcomings, the film generally hits the right notes of camp, Gen Z humor, and steaminess. It employs cliché tropes and narrative structures but is never lazy, since both the source material and its adaptation are well aware of the reasons why the formula works, striving, at every turn, to make the most of it.
Zakhar Perez and Galitzine’s performances as Alex and Henry aren’t exactly revelatory or nuanced, thanks in part to the tricky material they’re working with, but their chemistry on both ends of the enemies-to-lovers pipeline is perfect for what the genre requires. They’re brilliant at the bickering, both sizzling and tender during intimacy, and dedicated to carrying the underdeveloped emotional depth. If anything, Red, White & Royal Blue cements their status as two of the most prolific and prosperous faces of teen movies.
It’s obvious the movie is lacking a large chunk of development, as we see the two young men go from physical infatuation to unconditional love with barely any meat to justify it in between. Its runtime was reportedly clipped down from three hours to just under two, whereas the audiobook is over 12 hours long. Given the target audience, the choice to keep it short and sweet is understandable, but there’s no doubt the fans of the book would not have minded sticking around for at least another half hour.
It would have most likely benefited from keeping some of the scenes that might not drive the story forward, but nurture the connection both between the protagonists and between the audience and them. As a result, some of the characters’ actions and reactions appear to happen too early on and feel melodramatic and extreme. A lengthier, more grounded buildup was necessary to carry the revelations and big love declarations that come later on, but what transpires instead is a relationship heavily based on undeniable physical attraction, punctuated with only a few moments of real connection. When it works, though, it really works, and sparks fly, butterflies flutter and swooning ensues.
Red, White & Royal Blue is one of the best rom-coms of the year, filling up a space that has been unpopulated ever since studios decided mid-to-low budget films with silly premises and fan-service romance were no longer a good investment. Better yet, it’s unabashedly gay.
Its optimism is a triumph for LGBTQ+ cinema that can tend to take itself too seriously at times. The cherry on top of this slightly undercooked and overly mushy rainbow cake is one particular scene where Thurman’s brilliant president and even more brilliant mother gives her son a rundown of gay sex etiquette, that makes the whole thing worth a bite.
