Written and directed by Eliza Schroeder
Starring Candace Brown, Shelley Conn, Celia Imre
Running time: 1 hour and 38 minutes

By Gary M. Kramer

The cinematic confection, Love Sarah, is like those pastries that look good but are tasteless. This feel-good British rom-com—that is briefly romantic, and never witty or amusing—is merely a trifle, to use a British dessert pun. This film is so inconsequential that the calories spent consuming it will result only in guilt.

The film opens with the titular Sarah (Candice Brown) biking to the bakery she and her best friend Isabella (Shelley Conn) are opening. However, Sarah dies before she arrives. Isabella is now bereft and in debt. Having lost her baker (Sarah) and her mojo, Isabella is looking to unload the Notting Hill storefront. That is, until she discovers Clarissa (Shannon Tarbet), Sarah’s daughter, sleeping inside. Clarissa, a dancer who has been dumped by her boyfriend Alex (Max Parker), wants to fulfill to her mother’s dream and enlists the aid (financial, in particular) of her grandmother, Mimi (Celia Imrie). 

So far, so what? The three determined ladies have to go through the process of renovating the store and hiring a baker—which they do when Mathew (Rupert Penry-Jones), a Michelin-starred pastry chef turns up. Mathew knew Sarah and Isabella back in their cooking school days. Isabella detests Mathew, so of course, they will couple up. Complicating matters, Mathew may also be Clarissa’s father. 

Love Sarah does not invest much energy into this setup, and while patience can be rewarded when it comes to baking, director Eliza Schroeder’s film, from a script by Jake Brunger, feels underdone. Clarissa does not seem to do much in the bakery once it gets to the soft open, and Mimi’s efforts to generate publicity are noble, but underwhelming. There is a mention of Instagram, but there is also a reference to Ottolenghi, so Brunger has some awareness of the real world. However, calling a food editor to drum up business, as Mimi does, seems quaint. 

Moreover, Mathew has to convince Isabella to help him in the kitchen. His speech, about (metaphorically) getting out of her sensible shoes and into some Louboutins is actually quite sweet. But Isabella denies having Sarah’s talent as a baker, even though she seems to be able to prepare complex desserts without too much difficulty. A few efforts do fail, but it is damning with faint praise to say that Love Sarah resists an important pastry getting dropped or shoved in someone’s face. Though that would be more dramatic than anything that actually happens in the film.

Love Sarah does have one bright idea—that the bakery should make pastries from other cultures to satisfy the multicultural population in London. This spark does bring the film briefly to life, but it is a shame that the desserts from Latvia, Tanzania, and Japan are not described more thoroughly so viewers can appreciate them. 

Schroeder seems to excel at glossing over things. It is unsurprising when Isabella happens upon a job offer Mathew receives, and the DNA testing subplot to identify Clarissa’s father is surprisingly underwhelming. Likewise, when Mimi explains to Clarissa why she was estranged from her daughter for so long it comes off as rather feeble. 

Mimi does get a love interest in the form of Felix (Bill Paterson), a quirky inventor who lives across from the shop. Their relationship is meant to melt her cold heart, but Imrie is best when she is in her feisty mode.

For a female empowerment film, Love Sarah does not demand much out of its heroines. Shelley Conn is too demure and self-defeating as Isabella that she is not very likeable. It would be excusable if she was wracked with grief and guilt, but her character is more indecisive and impressionable than spirited. As Clarissa, Shannon Tarbet fares even worse. When she recounts her character flaws to Mathew—that she is bad with money, and smokes way too much weed—she is so damn chipper it is hard to believe her. Far more damaging is that as a dancer, she is stuffing her piehole with sweets without concern. (Yes, she is seen jogging at one point, but still). Tarbet is giving almost nothing to play, which makes her performance come off as useless.

The only actor who displays any real verve in this piffle is Rupert Penry-Jones, whose rakish charm is appealing perhaps because his character is arrogant and conceited. Penry-Jones’ performance comes off as effortless, which seems to be appropriate, given how undemanding this film is.

At least the desserts look good. If only Love Sarah wasn’t so bland.  

Love Sarah is available on demand Friday, January 15.