The Love Department: A Cruise to Nowhere Special

Is it worth the watch?

If you have a soft spot for pre-code fluff where everyone talks like they’re reading lines off a teleprompter, sure, give it a go. It’s perfect for a rainy afternoon when you don’t want to think too hard. If you need something with teeth or actual, you know, human emotions, skip it. You will probably hate this if you get annoyed by characters who make terrible decisions just to keep the plot moving.

Beatrice is supposed to be this sharp, witty columnist, but she spends half the movie acting like she’s never seen a man before. The chemistry on that cruise ship is about as hot as a lukewarm cup of tea. ☕

The Riviera looks nice, at least.

The scenery is pretty, even if it looks like a backdrop they found in a bargain bin. There’s a scene where they’re walking on the deck that goes on for way too long. It’s just feet moving and people nodding. Why are they still walking? It feels like the director just forgot to yell cut.

The guys they meet on the boat are a weird bunch. One guy has a mustache that seems to have a personality of its own, and I spent more time staring at that than listening to the dialogue. It’s distracting!

A familiar kind of boredom.

I couldn't help but think about The Unpainted Woman while watching this, mainly because both films feel like they’re trapped in their own little bubbles. They both have that specific, stagey energy that hasn't aged particularly well. At least the outfits in The Love Department are snazzy. I mean, look at those hats.

Jimmy, the reporter back home, is the only one who feels like a real person, even if he is just a standard trope in a cheap suit. He’s persistent, maybe a little too much, but you want him to win because the other options are just awful. The whole thing is incredibly light, like eating nothing but popcorn for dinner. It’s fine while you’re doing it, but you don’t really remember the taste once you're finished.

• That one background extra who clearly has no idea what to do with his hands.
• The music swells during moments that are barely romantic.
• The way the ship interior looks suspiciously like a studio set in a warehouse.

It’s not a masterpiece. It’s barely a movie, honestly. But it has a weird charm, like finding an old, faded photograph in a drawer. You don't know who these people are, but you stare at it for a minute anyway.