Juliet, Naked doesn’t do or say anything we have not seen countless times before. In many ways, it is a traditional, by-the-numbers romantic comedy that we has been made so many times throughout the years. Yet, how is it possible that such a conventional film manages to be one of the very best of the year, a sweet and endearing little diversion that keeps the audience captivated, never losing our interest in spite of the very simplistic and perhaps occasionally hackneyed storyline? It is because Jesse Peretz has made a delightfully charming comedy that doesn’t take itself too seriously, but also never neglects to focus on the delicate emotion that a film like this tends to have. I found Juliet, Naked to be a film that is about as meaningful as it is original, but all of that is disregarded and rendered entirely unimportant when you consider that this is an agreeable and inviting romantic comedy that serves to be a guilt-free distraction from reality, and while not being particularly groundbreaking, it is entertaining as they come, and a wonderfully enjoyable romantic comedy that remains true to the conventions of the genre, being both hilariously funny and deeply romantic.

The film is centrally focused on Annie (Rose Byrne), who lives in a small British seaside town, where she serves as a curator for the local museum, being limited to the mentalities of the country folk while always having bigger aspirations, with the big city constantly beckoning. For years, she has been in a relationship with Duncan (Chris O’Dowd), the worst kind of academic – a pretentious and snooty pseudo-intellectual who morphs otherwise beautiful works of art into dreary chores through his over-analysis and assertion of his own personal opinions. He is also obsessed with another man, Tucker Crowe (Ethan Hawke), an obscure alternative musician who hasn’t been seen or heard from in years. By some astronomical coincidence, Annie comes into contact with Tucker, and learns that he is very much alive, and living in the garage of his ex-wife’s house, where he is helping to raise one of four (or is it five?) children after a history of broken relationships, brought on by addiction – both of substances and of fame. Very soon, Annie finds herself becoming friends with Tucker over the internet, who is soon on his way to the United Kingdom, both to be with his daughter and newborn granddaughter, and to meet the fascinating woman he has been corresponding with for the past few months. However, they soon learn that there is a lot more complexity to a friendship such as theirs, and they need to work out how to deal with the difficult emotions that they are both feeling, as well as considering the fact that they are from entirely different worlds – and their Transatlantic divide certainly doesn’t help either.

Rose Byrne is such an extraordinary actress, and in nearly every performance I have seen from her, she is effortlessly lovely and almost luminous in her incredible talents. Juliet, Naked is one of the few films that commits itself to placing her in the leading role, and she is astonishing here, playing Annie with such exquisite delicacy but never portraying her as overly-sensitive, nor as a bundle of tics, which gives her unexpected depth and emotional gravitas. The performance isn’t one that requires much, but what Byrne does with it is construct a nuanced character that is just an ordinary woman with a regular life, hoping to find some deeper meaning. That meaning seems to come in the form of Ethan Hawke’s character, and he is as tremendous as always. Hawke is a great actor, and one of his generation’s most underrated performers, and while he isn’t on the same level as he has shown himself to be with other performances, he is really very good here. He has a certain quality about him that makes every one of his roles seem so authentic and natural, and the simplicity of his performance is really quite special. It is also pertinent to note that Hawke starred in the most romantic of films, the Before… Trilogy, which certainly stands as a hallmark of the romance genre, most of it being built on Hawke’s laid-back, unconventionally irresistible charisma throughout most of his performances, which gives his portrayal of Tucker added resonance. Finally, Chris O’Dowd is wonderfully annoying as the university lecturer who oscillates between obsession with himself and with Tucker Crowe. O’Dowd is a chameleonic actor, someone capable of being either extremely lovable, or profoundly despicable, and while he is not entirely villainous, his performance in Juliet, Naked definitely falls under the category of the latter. Juliet, Naked finds its merits in the small cast, which allows for the story to be intimate, developing these characters into well-formed individuals with their own stories, which is somewhat of a trait of Nick Hornby, from whose novel this film was adapted.

As I’ve said before, Juliet, Naked isn’t particularly groundbreaking, but it doesn’t need to be, because it compensates for its lack of originality with a story that is as charming and endearing as some of the finest romantic comedies in recent history. This is a film with an abundance of pure heart and soul and manages to be earnest and likeable without needing to demand it from the audience. It is very simple, but it finds the humanity in a story that could have been otherwise dull and lifeless. Peretz may not have a great deal of definitive experience, but he has shown promise throughout the years with his work in film and on television, and he understands that the worst possible thing a film like Juliet, Naked can be is heavy-handed and unnecessarily sentimental. To its credit, while it is often very familiar and predictable, the film often deftly avoids saccharine manipulation, and while there is the expected central conflict that forms the basis of these kinds of films, Juliet, Naked never feels inauthentic. It doesn’t position these characters as being otherworldly and without flaws, as well as hardly ever portraying this story as some serendipitous occurrence that has the potential to somehow change the course of history. That simply isn’t true, and Juliet, Naked seems to understand the shortcomings of its genre, and quite openly addresses them without being sardonic or critical. It embraces the flaws of the romantic comedy, recognizing them and subverting the tropes in a way that doesn’t redefine the genre, but makes for otherwise compelling viewing.

I have a very soft spot for films like Juliet, Naked. It isn’t a film that is particularly original or daring in terms of the story it tells, nor is it one that is mentally-stimulating or riveting to the point where it lingers long afterwards. But it is a well-meaning, charming film that is extremely traditional, but in a way that doesn’t fall victim to the shortcomings of its predecessors, seeming to acknowledge the tropes of the genre without putting too much unnecessary effort into reinventing the romantic comedy. It is the kind of film one watches when they want a brief diversion, a wonderfully sweet and warmly inviting romantic comedy that is heartfelt and lovable and leaves you satisfied, despite being almost entirely predictable. This is a film that certainly won’t stand out on its own merits, but it is comfortably appealing and as lovely a time as anyone could have with this kind of film. However, it is in this very simple story and its unassuming, humble execution that Juliet, Naked manages to soar, and if someone gives it a chance, they’ll soon discover just how enchanting this film actually is.