Office Romance

Fans of Jennifer Lopez’s romantic comedies did not only have to endure the lowlight that was 2022’s Shotgun Wedding, but the years of drought that followed after. That is not to say the multi-hyphenate lay idle – far from it! Within the span of a presidential term, she experimented with Netflix’s own particular brand of action genres (The Mother, Atlas), Oscar bait (Unstoppable, Kiss of the Spider Woman), as well as a Las Vegas residency. But no matter the number of turns Lopez’s career has taken, her enduring legacy irrefutably lies in her influence on the rom-com genre, making her return to it with Office Romance feel like a comforting homecoming.

In the straight-to-streaming production, she plays Jackie Cruz, CEO of Cruz Airlines, which was founded by her father (Edward James Olmos, reprising his on-screen parental dynamic with Lopez from Selena). To shield herself from constant belittlement, infantilisation or sexualisation of the male board members, Jackie has cultivated the image of an impenetrable businesswoman. However, the arrival of charming new in-house lawyer Daniel Blanchflower (Brett Goldstein) tests the emotional armour she spent years forging.

Goldstein himself penned the script, together with fellow Ted Lasso writer Joe Kelly, and unapologetically prioritised comedy over the romance aspect. In a way, this makes the film more accessible for those who easily dismiss the genre as “chick flick”, or to paraphrase Lopez’s own words, something a male audience might also openly enjoy. The problem herein lies with the subjectivity of humour and the filmmakers’ apparent awareness thereof. As a result, the feature ends up feeling like a scattershot exercise in trial and error, throwing disparate jokes at the wall to see which ones land. From juvenile bits about anatomy, to morbid riffs on decapitation (courtesy of a rather bizarre supporting performance by Jodie Whittaker), down to the self-aggrandising invention of a “British fetish”, the screenplay oscillates furiously. Yet the premise that was promised – the perfectly absurdist scenario of finding love in the age of strict HR regulations – is never fully capitalised on. The one sequence that successfully mines this concept is tucked away in the credits.

However, a major saving grace of the piece is that it was written with Lopez specifically in mind, providing her with the perfect framework to shine, even beyond her inherent high-beam star power. Her character embodies a struggle many women still face: that of their success being inevitably tied to men. On the one hand, she is seen as her father’s daughter, a “nepo baby” that inherited her job, rather than worked for it. On the other, any individual achievements must be tied to her using her female assets: Blanchflower’s first case is fielding accusations of Cruz trading sexual favours for runway clearance at Dallas airport. In true pointed Netflix manner, these circumstances spell out why the pursuit of a personal life can be a liability for a career woman. This adds a maturity to the romantic conflict that Lopez seamlessly embodies, even within the confines of the dialogue’s limitations. At the same time, she proves a remarkably good sport, committing to every bit of lowbrow silliness required of her.

For a film of that title, Office Romance does not spend enough time in the workplace, instead clocking out early to go on hit-or-miss comedic excursions. Despite the occasionally immature humour, the central relationship manages to tap into some real-world conflicts thanks to its powerful lead actors, raising questions about the rigorous separation between personal lives and corporate settings. Though hardly a standout in either Lopez or Goldstein’s filmography, Office Romance is the very definition of a perfectly fine watch for a night in.