Leap Year is patently ridiculous and widely panned. It’s also the perfect romcom

Leap Year is patently ridiculous and widely panned. It’s also the perfect romcom Starring Amy Adams and Matthew Goode as enemies-to-lovers, this very American portrait of Ireland happens to be charming I n 2010 the Guardian gave the romcom Leap Year a one-star review . The script was “horrendous”, according to the reviewer: “Afterwards, the only ‘leap’ I felt like making was off a motorway gantry into the fast lane of the M25.” He wasn’t alone. Leap Year has an approval rating of 23% on Rotten Tomatoes; the New York Times called it “so witless, charmless and unimaginative that it can be described as a movie only in the strictly technical sense”. It’s been 16 years. And here is why Leap Year is good, actually. The premise is this: Anna, an American woman (Amy Adams), decides she’ll make use of an alleged Irish rule that says women – shock horror – can propose to men on 29 February. She follows her cardiologist boyfriend (Adam Scott, who looks like a lesbian mouse who wished to be human – complimentary) to Dublin with the intention of getting down on one knee. The wet Irish weather conspires against her and for whatever reason – don’t question it – a tall, beautiful, cranky publican (Matthew Goode) is her only hope of transport. They are very rude to each other, in a way that is very hot. She ruins her heels in the mud; he laughs when her suitcase is stolen. At one point they need accommodation – and guess what? There’s only – say it with me – one room at the inn. And the owners are religious, so Amy and Matthew have to pretend to be a married couple. Oh, and the shower curtain is semi-transparent. The appeal of a romcom is that we know what is going to happen; therein lies the comfort and joy. Previous reviewers have mistaken well-loved tropes for a lack of imagination. Done properly, a romcom takes our hand through a series of events that are both audaciously unrealistic and deeply familiar. Everything, every character, every line of dialogue, every Irish cow that b...