Review

"Love of the Irish: A Pint-Sized Romance with a Side of Predictability"

Ah, Love of the Irish—the 2025 cinematic equivalent of a warm, slightly stale scone. If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if a Hallmark holiday movie and a St. Patrick’s Day parade had a baby, this is it. And by “baby,” I mean a film so wholesome it could cure scurvy, but also so predictable you’ll guess the ending before the leprechaun even shows up (spoiler: there’s a leprechaun).

The plot is as straightforward as a Guinness pour: our plucky American heroine, Katie (played by someone who looks like she’s never met a carb she didn’t like), inherits a charming but crumbling Irish pub from her long-lost great-aunt. Naturally, she flies to the Emerald Isle to sell it, only to fall in love with the ruggedly handsome local handyman, Liam (who, shockingly, is not named Seamus or Patrick). Cue the rolling green hills, the fiddle music, and the obligatory scene where Katie tries to pull a pint and fails miserably. It’s like Hallmark movies decided to take a vacation to Ireland and forgot to pack their originality.

The film’s charm lies in its commitment to the Hallmark holiday movies formula. There’s a quirky best friend (who owns a sheep farm, naturally), a meddling but lovable town elder (who may or may not be a secret matchmaker), and a subplot involving a missing heirloom that’s been in the family for generations. Oh, and let’s not forget the magical realism—because of course, the leprechaun is real, and he’s here to sprinkle some “luck of the Irish” on Katie’s love life. Because nothing says romance like a CGI creature in a green suit.

The dialogue is as cheesy as a wheel of Kerrygold, with lines like, “Sometimes, love is like a good Irish stew—it takes time to simmer, but it’s worth the wait.” (Yes, that’s an actual line. No, I’m not kidding.) But hey, if you’re watching Love of the Irish for groundbreaking dialogue, you’re in the wrong theater. This is a movie where the biggest conflict is whether Katie will choose her high-powered corporate job in New York or the simple life in a town where everyone knows everyone else’s business (and probably their sheep’s names, too).

In the end, Love of the Irish is exactly what you’d expect: a cozy, feel-good romp that’s as comforting as a bowl of potato soup on a rainy day. It won’t win any Oscars, but it might win your heart—if you’re into shamrocks, sweaters, and the occasional Irish jig. So grab your popcorn, pour yourself a pint (or a cup of tea, if you’re feeling fancy), and enjoy this cinematic equivalent of a warm hug. Just don’t forget to check your brain at the door. Sláinte! 🍀