Alex Claremont-Diaz (Taylor Zakhar Perez), son of Ellen Claremont (Uma Thurman), President of the United States, was sent to the United Kingdom as the delegate to Prince Phillip’s (Thomas Flynn) wedding.  While there, a long-simmering feud between Alex and Prince Henry (Nicholas Galitzine) is reignited causing multi-national headlines that detract from his mother’s reelection campaign.  Alex and Henry embark on a damage control tour, and soon they realize that their feud was fueled not by animosity but by attraction.  Growing closer, and more intimate, the two sons of prominent families must find a way to keep their relationship a secret so as not to totally disrupt national and international politics. 

Matthew López adapts Casey McQuiston’s novel, Red, White & Royal Blue, with assistance on the page by Ted Malawer for Amazon Studios.  Backed by Greg Berlanti, among others, the LGBTQ+ YA rom-com feels much more like a made-for-tv streamer than a major summer release.  Running 121 minutes, it is way too long, and the hollow characters quickly wear out their welcome.  It is noticeable that so much of the production crew has roots in television given the structure, the surprisingly un-cinematic camera work from Stephen Goldblatt, and a tinkering sitcom score by Drum & Lace. This project would have been much better suited as a mini-series or it needed a total overhaul and narrowing of scope during pre-production to really make it work effectively. 

As with any film, but especially ones under the Romance umbrella, the cast needs to have chemistry with each other and though there are fleeting moments between Alex and Henry, this odd couple just never manages to sell their relationship.  For starters, Alex is a freewheeling playboy stuck in an “opposites attract” arc against the prim and proper Henry, an age-old pairing that relies on its storied history within the genre to validate itself instead of strengthening the script.  It is not that there is no question of will they/won’t they – it is a romcom so of course they will – it is a matter of the first act is devoid of any fun teasing of the matter.  It opens with a goofy setpiece of the two toppling into a £750k wedding cake, but it is hardly a meet-cute because the two are already at odds. Alex’s constant jabs at Henry make him out to be a pestering nuisance and Henry’s actions and responses swing wildly from moment to moment without any pattern or track; something that will hinder this role on the page time and time again especially as stakes grow in the later acts. It is so frustrating that there is so little to latch on here because if there is one thing this film does well is that it figures out a way to portray long-distance relationships beyond making its audience just read text messages on-screen or split screen. López has these scenes play out as if the two are in the same room, but the blocking has them work through totally separate scenarios as they go about their individual business so we know they are physically apart despite occupying the same frame. 

Perez does the best he can, but he is saddled with really cumbersome jokes from the screenwriters and the timing is all off as he stumbles on the words, breaking the energy behind the joke.  It is not as much a fault of the performance as it is on the script. It tries to inject humor at every instance and it just does not land, especially when the dramatic arc Alex follows is much stronger on the page and – contrivances aside – much more interesting than whatever elementary antics he is getting up to.  Outside of the relationship, Alex’s main plot involves an election plan to help his mother, the incumbent Democratic presidential nominee, to flip Texas blue.  As if the premise of the president’s son and the second heir to the British throne was not wild enough, flipping Texas blue is certainly a flight of fancy, and thanks to the magic of the movies both plot lines come true with minimal work on behalf of Alex.  Perez works best when he is out glad-handing with the constituents, and it is here where the film feels most competent in its construction.  Sure, its message is very preaching to the choir and it is hard to understand why the screenwriters felt the need to be so blatant when odds are that the audience will already be pretty well aligned with the politics of the film, but on a strictly narrative level, this plotline helps to humanize Alex and shows him passionate about something for once. 

Things fare far worse for poor Henry across the pond.  Henry is such a blank slate of a character with absolutely nothing to do.  As the “spare” there is no real concern about having a gay king and because so much of this film is weighted heavily towards Alex, there is no real sense of stakes of being gay royalty in the traditional structure except for some bratty remarks by Phillip and a stuffy speech by King James III (Stephen Fry).  For all the struggles with his character’s extroverted nonsense that Perez had to contend with, Galitzine has the opposite problem as the introvert of the relationship.  He gets written off to the margins of the scenes, and later cocoons away, with nothing to do and no friends or other companionship to really speak of; his sister Princess Martha (Bridget Benstead) occupies the scenes with him, but they never meaningfully interact. 

The lack of a support system for Henry may be purposeful, but it is not really expanded upon by the screenwriters how damaging that can be for someone who is questioning their sexuality to have that additional isolation in their life. It is incredibly noticeable as the film wanes on and Alex is never without a white house staffer, parent, or secret service agent to ramble on and on about his feelings until they rain wisdom and understanding down on him so that he can tackle whatever the next impossible scenario he will find himself caught up in.  Without being able to comment on the ensemble management from the novel, looking at this film in the context of only itself, it is clear the screenwriters seem wholly uncomfortable with handling any of the British characters, locations, or lifestyle.  As such, the film is very Alex-focused instead of couple-focused making the relationship seem more self-serving towards the bullish Alex so that when the two do share some emotional or intimate moments, it all rings hollow and it is hard to see why Henry is even bothering to spend time with the arrogant Alex anyway.   

When it comes to the supporting characters, Red, White & Royal Blue reveals again just how poorly its unfocused script manages its ensemble cast. Their knowledge of the scene constantly varies depending on what is convenient, and for the most part, the film is quick to forget about them once they have served their purpose, even though these characters are supposed to be close friends of Alex. A great example is how the film totally loses sight of Nora (Rachel Hilson) in the second half of the film despite her being a huge force in Alex’s life and a close confidant as he begins to contextualize this secret romance with the prince. Miguel Ramos (Juan Castano) is brought in as an ex-flame of Alex’s and currently working as a political journalist, he fills a bit of an antagonist role in the film. While his arc is concluded, it is handled as such a footnote in the story it should have been cut so as not to feel like just another half-baked story thread. Aneesh Sheth as Alex’s guard is totally underutilized despite showing great potential for comedy, and while Sarah Shahi’s Zahra gets a little more to do, as the true highlight of the film, her character desperately needed more screen time. 

Beyond the friends and staff members, there is Alex’s family; Ellen the president, and her husband, Oscar (Clifton Collins Jr.), the son of an immigrant and a member of the Senate. As a film, it is trying to do far too much, and Alex’s interactions with his parents make for some of the strangest moments in the film. Red, White & Royal Blue has to tackle coming out as the film starts with both young men presenting as straight. True to its slant, Henry gets no poignant – or even painful – scene where his sexuality is addressed with his family or friends. If one wants to be generous and say that the scene with the King counts, that argument falls apart because Alex is there to save the day. Meanwhile, Alex gets a truly awkward heart-to-heart with his mom about being bisexual, and it is not awkward because of its subject matter, it is awkward because of the completely emotionless writing resulting in emotionless performances and some not-so-subtle product placement for Truvada that is dressed up as a joke but in reality, this laugh line just highlights the healthcare inequality in this country. Later, he gets the chance to sort of come out to his father while they are on vacation the morning after getting wasted with Henry in some Texas karaoke bar and sharing a bedroom together at the villa. 

Red, White & Royal Blue fits well into producer Berlanti’s resume of high-profile queer YA stories, and while he was able to synthesize Love, Simon (2018) to a very serviceable film – though, notably, he directed that film – this multi-national tale of star-crossed lovers fails to break through and make any real impact. López is unable to capture a tone or identity for the film to take on, and the leads are unable to break through the rough script that leaves them with no development as individual characters and even less chemistry together as a couple. It is sickeningly sweet as the two flirt around the idea of stakes, but the film is too afraid to actually contend with what it would mean for either of them to come out. It will passingly reference the rebuking of tradition to have a gay prince or the social stigma attached to Latino people who also identify as queer, but it shies away from any introspection. It operates under this idea of a perfect world where none of that matters and everyone gets along. While it is coming from a place of positivity, by relying so much on the very real struggles of identity to cause drama in the narrative while not actually engaging with what any of it means, it feels so soft almost like it is waving away the notion of it all. It never outright condemns people who are not publicly out and proud, but it certainly does not recognize situations where it may not be feasible or safe for someone to come out because it is so heavily rooted in a world of such immense privilege. Perhaps the novel is more nuanced and thoughtful in its presentation of these ideas, but as far as the film is concerned, it reads like fetishized CNN fanfiction and is about as meaningful and as pandering as the small rainbow decal that is quickly torn down at 12:01am on July 1st each year from the doors of, say, an Amazon warehouse.