‘Find Me Falling’ Review: Harry Connick Jr. Sings and Shines in Netflix’s Big Fat Greek Rom-Com

With “Find Me Falling,” writer-director Stelana Kliris offers a pretty good getaway: a breezy 90-minute armchair vacation to a quaint, sun-swept paradise for a sand-and-salt-infused romantic comedy about Mediterranean folks taking leaps of faith. She even throws in an Emmy- and Grammy-winning star, and carves out moments for him to sing a few wistfully melancholic tunes in his butter-smooth voice. These are compelling reasons to take the trip. Still, while the film is generally pleasant viewing, it’s tough to ignore its mixed messaging that values companionship over self-sufficiency.

New Yorker John Allman (Harry Connick Jr.) can relocate to a tiny village and hole up in a remote shack perched on the jagged cliffs of Cyprus, but he’ll never escape himself — or rather, his chart-topping single “Girl on the Beach.” It plays constantly on the radio decades after its debut. The retired rock-‘n’-roller is running from the vestiges of his former posh life after a failed comeback effort. He’s also still nursing deep emotional wounds from the devastating breakup that led to his career-defining hit in the first place. Retreating with his emotional burden to the place where heartbreak first took hold, he has become a recluse.

Unbeknownst to John, his home is located at a popular spot for the desperately depressed to commit suicide, hurling themselves onto the rocky shore below. His plans for selfish, sorrowful solitude are thwarted as he has to build a fence (a metaphor that also serves as one of the film’s running gags) to keep people out. Ironically, this task brings him closer to villagers like police captain Manoli (Tony Demetriou) and grocer Koula (Lea Maleni). The latter notes John’s helplessness and sets up a delivery service by her headstrong niece, tavern singer Melina (Ali Fumiko Whitney). Melina also happens to be the daughter of village doctor Sia (Agni Scott), the gal from John’s famous song — once reunited, their spark quickly turns into a flame again. When a secret involving Melina is finally confessed, however, the three find themselves at a crossroads.

Though the twist is instantly obvious to anyone who’s ever seen a movie before, Kliris draws out the predictable reveal. The genre-mandated “you lied to me” moment is nonetheless handled with all the pathos and gravitas one would expect from a Greek tragedy, or at least a gentler, Hallmark-esque version of one. The film continues to follow a familiar formula while overloading the third act with a late-blooming catalyst for John’s redemptive arc. Though sentiments about letting the heart guide the head and taking chances are well-intentioned, they’re poorly expressed as regressive statements. Sia’s mother Marikou (Angeliki Filipidou) delivers a speech telling her warring daughter and granddaughter that being with a true love is a risk preferable to single parenthood. The sentiment that more helping hands are better is understandable, but the insinuation that we need to have a man around to feel totally fulfilled is off-putting.

That said, in the margins of the narrative, there are endearing moments where we come to care about these characters. It’s hard to dislike John’s dry sense of humor and the situational comedy that emerges from his status as the island’s bachelor and reluctant therapist. There’s much to enjoy in Sia and Melina’s respective transformations from cautious to carefree in their personal and professional lives. Kliris negotiates tonal shifts effortlessly: The jokes never undercut the drama as both dovetail neatly into each other. From the bustling street markets to the nightlife gatherings filled with friends and delicious food, the Cypriot culture is captured with story-enhancing flavor.

Connick Jr. is by no means a stranger to rom-com territory, having starred in the likes of “Hope Floats” and “New in Town.” Still, he shades in this hero differently, showcasing an acerbic wit missing from those films, along with some broken-hearted tenderness and brief glimpses of physical comedy — applying aloe on his back using a doorframe and putting up a fence while sloshed. Scenes where he sings the film’s original ballad (also written by the star) and, later, a traditional Greek serenade are highlights, showing him in full command of his craft. Yet it’s Filipidou who threatens to steal the movie with her undeniable charisma and unsinkable demeanor. Her grounded work as the voice of reason gives the film some heart.

In the pantheon of Netflix’s rom-coms for adults, this gets by on its good looks, spirit and ambition. It’s easy escapism with an amorous atmosphere, low-stakes problems and a bouzouki-heavy score that heightens the hijinks and hilarity. Ultimately, however, this is yet another title added to the algorithm-manufactured content heap, so anything gleaned from these travels and travails is fleetingly felt.