This Time Next Year Review: A Sweet but Stalled Romance

A trimmed-down London romance has landed on Amazon Prime, hoping to be your next comfort-watch. But this New Year’s love story might have you checking the clock more than swooning.

This Time Next Year gives us two attractive leads, a meet-cute tied to shared birthday lore, and a dash of maternal rivalry. Still, it somehow struggles to turn all that promise into real spark.

After three decades of watching rom-coms twist and turn, I’d put this one right in the pleasant-but-plodding camp.

A Rom-Com That Feels Stuck in Time

There’s something cozy about a London-set romance. Cobblestone streets, warm pubs, and attractive thirtysomethings fumbling toward love—should be easy, right?

This Time Next Year has all that visual charm. But it moves with the unhurried pace of a made-for-TV movie stretching to fill a holiday slot.

The film was reportedly trimmed by half an hour for streaming, clocking in at 1 hour and 24 minutes. Yet, weirdly, it still feels longer.

It’s not short on story beats. The problem is momentum—every emotional turn feels softened, every obstacle politely sidestepped instead of dramatically confronted.

The Premise: Born Seconds Apart, Worlds Apart

The hook’s undeniably cute. In 1990, two women give birth in the same London hospital on New Year’s Day.

One baby just misses out on being the first baby of the year—and the cash prize that comes with it. That baby is Minnie Cooper, played by Sophie Cookson, who grows up with the sting of near-victory and a name that was never really hers.

The other baby, Quinn, gets the prize and the name Minnie’s mother wanted. So, the rivalry starts right there in the maternity ward.

It’s the sort of cosmic coincidence that rom-coms love, especially when fate throws the birthday twins together again decades later.

Meet Cute With a Bentley

Adult Minnie is struggling to keep her pie shop afloat, mostly by catering to retirement homes. Her finances are a mess, her help unreliable, and her influencer boyfriend isn’t exactly useful.

Enter Quinn, now a wealthy management consultant with a Bentley and impeccable timing. Their reunion happens after Minnie gets herself locked in a public restroom on New Year’s Eve.

It’s an awkward setup for what should be a sparkling reconnection. Instead, the film plays it safe, leaning into polite banter over sizzling chemistry.

Sophie Cookson Deserves More

Cookson’s got presence. If you recognize her from the Kingsman films, you know she brings a grounded likability to Minnie.

There’s a flicker of comic timing and emotional depth in her performance. Honestly, a sharper script could’ve lifted the whole thing.

Lucien Laviscount, familiar to streaming audiences, looks every inch the charming leading man. But charm alone isn’t chemistry.

Their connection just never quite catches fire. It stays warm, never hot.

The Obstacles That Barely Obstruct

A romance needs compelling obstacles. Here, those forces feel oddly weightless.

Minnie clings to resentment over the birthday slight. Her mother still nurses that old grievance. Quinn glides through life with polished ease.

• A failing pie business with questionable bookkeeping
• An agoraphobic mother whose condition never fully drives the story
• A dead-end boyfriend who’s obviously wrong for Minnie

These should create friction. Instead, they just sort of sit there, neatly arranged, never really mixing into something flavorful.

Hallmark Energy With Theatrical Ambitions

The movie’s got Hallmark Channel DNA—chaste, gentle, almost aggressively wholesome. There’s nothing wrong with comfort viewing, but most theatrical rom-coms ask for sharper wit or deeper stakes.

The pacing feels tailor-made for commercial breaks, not cinematic flow. You can almost hear where a holiday baking ad might drop in.

The Supporting Cast Steals Moments

If the central romance feels muted, the supporting cast brings bursts of personality. Monica Dolan and John Hannah add some real gravitas as the older generation still wrestling with choices from decades ago.

And then there’s Charlie Oscar as Minnie’s rainbow-haired delivery driver. Maybe “scene-stealing” is too strong, but Oscar definitely wakes the film up every time she shows up.

In a movie hungry for comic energy, those moments matter.

A London That Looks Lovely

The film’s setting is a real asset. London in winter just oozes romance, especially when it’s all cozy interiors and softly lit streets.

The visuals do a lot of heavy lifting, compensating for dialogue that rarely surprises. Director Nick Moore keeps things polished and pleasant, never letting the tone dip into melodrama.

But sometimes, a little melodrama is exactly what a romance needs, isn’t it?

Why It Never Quite Soars

After thirty years of watching romantic comedies, I’ve learned audiences will forgive almost anything if the chemistry is there. Thin plots, wild coincidences, even absurd misunderstandings—if the emotional payoff feels earned, we’re in.

Here, the emotional peaks are more like gentle slopes. The laughs are mild. The romantic tension simmers, never boils.

It’s sweet. It’s scenic. It’s perfectly watchable. But it rarely feels urgent, and that’s what keeps it from soaring.

The Final Verdict

This Time Next Year isn’t a disaster. It’s just sort of inert.

The leads look great, there’s a clever birthday twist, and London is always a nice backdrop. You’d think all that would create a swoon-worthy streaming hit, right?

Instead, the movie just plays it safe and predictable. If you want a low-stakes romance for background noise while folding laundry or baking, this one works.

But if you’re hoping for the spark and charm of something like Four Weddings and a Funeral, you might end up glancing at the clock more than the screen.