Call it the Bridgerton effect—or perhaps the ripple effect of The Crown—but Netflix seems more enamored with British settings than ever. Last month, Lena Dunham explored an American’s adjustment to London life in Too Much, and now, as another Pride and Prejudice adaptation gears up, we get My Oxford Year, a sentimental romance where England itself is the love interest.
You might expect a university-set film from The Inbetweeners creator Iain Morris to be a raucous comedy for young men, but My Oxford Year—based on Julia Whelan’s novel—leans into sweetness over scandal. It’s a light, forgettable fantasy about an American seeking herself abroad, like Emily in Paris but with Anna (Netflix regular Sofia Carson) in Oxford. Anna, a working-class New Yorker, postpones her Goldman Sachs job to study literature at Oxford, chasing passion before surrendering to a life of spreadsheets.
Her idealized vision of England isn’t entirely wrong—the historic beauty is undeniable (and the on-location shots help sell the fantasy). But in one of the film’s few genuinely funny moments, her new friends introduce her to a less picturesque side of British life: an evening watching Naked Attraction. And, like countless American heroines before her—from Andie MacDowell to Julia Roberts—she falls for a charming, bookish Brit, Jamie (Bridgerton’s Corey Mylchreest).
Their meet-cute is absurdly contrived: his fancy car splashes her with a comically large puddle, they cross paths at a chip shop where she accidentally gets him in trouble, and then—surprise!—he turns out to be her substitute professor. What follows is a romance as bland as beige. There’s a half-hearted attempt at tension—he’s a privileged playboy, she’s a grounded overachiever—but their clashes lack bite. The story plods along predictably until an abrupt shift from rom-com to melodrama.
The dramatic turn, however, isn’t compelling. Without spoiling the reveal, it’s a tired trope handled without fresh insight, leaving the audience sighing in recognition of every beat to come. The film’s potential—exploring class divides, the tension between art and commerce, the struggle of straddling two continents—gets buried under this uninspired twist.
Morris directs competently, but the script (by Allison Burnett and Melissa Osborne) lacks spark, leaving the leads to carry the weight. Carson fares better here than in Netflix’s The Life List, though she’s still not magnetic enough to anchor every scene. Mylchreest shows promise, channeling Hugh Grant-esque charm that could shine with sharper material.
As far as passive Netflix viewing goes—something to half-watch before instantly forgetting—it’s better than some. But compared to last year’s similar romantic offerings, My Oxford Year feels as fleeting as a term abroad.It Ends With Us proved there’s still so much to explore in a genre that often gets unfairly dismissed. While there are deep, relatable emotions to uncover, My Oxford Year never quite reaches that grand emotional payoff—instead, it feels like a lazy summer escape that leaves you right where you started.
My Oxford Year is now streaming on Netflix.