Your Fault: London

Have you ever wondered what a Gen-Z Mills & Boon makeover would look like? Well, the answer has arrived in the form of Your Fault: London, which swaps quivering, corseted maidens and Herculean hunks for angsty, doom-scrolling Zoomers. A sequel to My Fault: London, itself based on the Spanish film Culpa Mía and titular book by Mercedes Ron, the flick continues with the risqué YA formula of its predecessor.

With their teenage years coming to an end, stepsiblings Noah (Asha Banks) and Nick (Matthew Broome) navigate new responsibilities amid their steamy forbidden romance. Noah is now a student at Oxford University, while Nick is on his way to becoming a tech business bro. All is peachy between the lovers, who continue with their illicit rendezvous between lectures and conferences. Then, in comes Sophia (Louisa Binder), the preppy girlboss who threatens to disrupt the pair’s seemingly unbreakable bond.

As with the previous film, there’s sizzling chemistry between Banks and Broome, with the former unfaltering in her American accent. The scenes of English manor houses and Oxford campus life will undoubtedly appeal to Anglophile viewers, as will the moments of campy, upper-middle-class verbal jousting. “We’re at a buffet of Britain’s finest male specimens, and you’re not even gonna have a taste?” fellow student Briar (a wonderfully sassy Scarlett Rayner, clearly having fun with the premise) retorts to a lovesick Noah. However, its rosy-coloured view of British wealth and privilege mirrors the naiveté with which the film tackles its thorny central taboo.

Despite the contentious romance having been explored in the previous film, it hasn’t reached a point of palatability. This probably isn’t helped by the fact that stepsibling affairs are a trope lifted from an increasingly pornified culture, and one at risk of being normalised. It comes as little surprise that the story originated as fan fiction on Wattpad, full of the racy forbidden love fantasies that have led to the medium’s infamy. Elsewhere, exposition abounds, with characters spelling out the plot (“Well, well, well, aren’t you a dark horse?” Sophia remarks to Nick, increasingly terrified of his secret being spilled).

Admittedly, it doesn’t pretend to be anything other than a spicy fantasy, making its commitment to the absurdity of the plot almost endearing. Your Fault: London is unashamedly trashy YA fanfic.