Main cast: Christopher Gorham (Simon Hayes), Bitsie Tulloch (Tess Perkins), Sebastian Roché (Perry Quinn), Andie Nibley (Andie Perkins), Jack McBrayer (Darren), Paula Marshall (Diane), David Nibley (Brad King), Alicia Hannah (Alex), and Perez Hilton (Himself)
Director: Christopher Gorham

Maybe I’ve been ruined by too many cringe-inducing romantic comedies on Hallmark and Netflix, because I find myself cringing throughout a great chunk of We Love You, Sally Carmichael!. Six, ten, maybe fifteen years ago I would be all over this one, but now, I just sigh and wonder when I have become this jaded. Oh, to be wholesome and innocent like the good old days.

Oh yes, this one. It’s a romantic comedy, as I’ve said, and it’s another movie that acts like a male author that writes romance is the best thing ever. I mean, hey, I’m sure there are great male romance authors out there, but I don’t know why people act like a man writing such stories is somehow so strange and yet so awesome that I am supposed to stop in my tracks and squeal in delight. Okay, Christopher Gorham is far hotter than any of the current male romance authors that I know of out there, but come on.

Mr Gorham directs and stars in this one. He plays Simon Hayes, an author whose sole critically acclaimed novel ended up languishing in the bargain bin. He ended up writing as Sally Carmichael a young adult romance featuring a young girl clearly tailored after Bella Swan – right down to the clumsiness – and a hot mermaid. That book sold like hot cakes; the sequel sold like a whole bakery is on fire, and now, the third book is published to worldwide hysteria. Simon hates every second of his fame; he even doesn’t spend a cent of his royalties because he’s one of those mythical full time authors who doesn’t need money to survive. Unfortunately, with Hollywood coming to knock on the door, Simon’s publisher is not going to let Simon remain anonymous much longer. Eccentric movie star Perry Quinn expresses interest in playing the merman despite being at least ten years too old and having never read a single page of the books, so the publisher coerces Simon to parley and deal with Perry in order to stoke the man’s interest.

Along the way, Simon meets bookstore owner Tess Perkins, who’s probably one of the three people who read his first book. She even enjoys it, and wants him to publish in her independent newspaper his rant about how terrible Sally Carmichael is as an author. He soon falls for her, but how can he tell her that he’s Sally Carmichael and he hasn’t really been honest with her?

Here’s the thing: anyone who has read or watched any romantic novel or movie involving the hero keeping a secret from the heroine will know where this story is heading. Almost everything here, in fact, is a Hallmark or small town romance novel cliché – right down to creepy little plot device kids and siblings obsessed with the main characters’ love lives – that I can only wonder whether screenwriter Daryn Tufts was pulling his own Sally Carmichael stunt here, by writing something insincere and calculated because he needs the money bad.

Still, calculated sentimentality and cringing cloying cuteness are staples of romantic comedies, and I can enjoy them when it’s done right. That’s why While You Were Sleeping (the US one, not the Korean abomination of the same name) is one of my favorite romantic films ever, and that thing is determined to inflicted type 2 diabetes on everyone who watches it. What bogs this one down is the utter lack of chemistry between Mr Gorham and Bitsie Tulloch. Both are determined to go through the motions – he the somewhat socially awkward, snobby hot nerd; she the sassy, spunky ingénue who adores the hero for his genius like nobody else would – to an extent that they seem to have overlooked that their characters are supposed to be falling in love. On their own, these characters may be likable, adorable types, but together, they come off more like friends than lovers.

Sebastian Roché steals every scene he is in, by the way. That fellow is a hoot to watch, but sadly, the rest of the cast isn’t giving him much of a run for his money. He’s easily the best thing about this movie.

I don’t know. Like I said earlier, maybe I’d loved this one more if it came out ten or twenty years ago when I was still a starry-eyed, wholesome darling that saw the best in every romantic comedy. Now I’m just bored by how formulaic We Love You, Sally Carmichael! is, how so much of it feels contrived and even disingenuous – as if the movie viewed me in the same light as Simon looks at the fans of Sally Carmichael; easily bored and desperate for fantasy fulfillment. Oh well, that’s okay. Me and Christopher Gorham, we’ll always have Bob Barnard.