Colin from Accounts
It’s perfect, that’s all. It’s got the perfect meet-cute (boob, crashed car, injured dog); the perfect combination of realism and romance (especially for non-romantics like me); the perfect heroine (neither the hot mess nor the manic pixie dream girl we are so often forced to accept); the perfect hero (laid-back but not lazy, older but not creepy, patient, not a pillock) and perfect writing.
In my review I said it was like real life with all the good lines jammed closer together and I stand by that. It depicts ordinarily messy lives and every moment – funny, sad or any point in between – feels true. And then they did it all again for a second series. Matchless. The fact that the writers and stars, Harriet Dyer and Patrick Brammall, are actually married is the icing on the cake. Imagine such joy being out there in the real world.
Lucy Mangan, Guardian TV critic
Last Tango in Halifax
Only Sally Wainwright could give us a love story groaning with arthritis and chuckling with glee. It uses the simplest of plot devices – simplicity is hard – a letter that was never delivered 50 years ago. I bet lots of romcom stars on this list are glowing and shiny and young, but step back kids to watch Anne Reid and Derek Jacobi give a masterclass. Most romcoms are short, sharp bursts, as if happiness can’t last and we need to hit the end credits before the arguments start. But Last Tango has already run for five seasons, with incredible invention putting that central love story to the test. It’s even possible to imagine that Anne Reid’s Celia would be voting Reform now, and that’s a season I’d love to see. My favourite scene has to be the end of the very first episode, where the two lovers meet and ignite almost immediately, with both their daughters hot on their heels – two women destined to become endless enemies. Look at the amount of story in that! And who says it’s over? More please, Sally.
Russell T Davies, creator of Queer As Folk and It’s a Sin
Feel Good
There is plenty of both rom and com in Feel Good, though the title offers a promise of cheer that it has no intention of delivering, at least in any conventional form. Mae Martin plays a comedian called Mae Martin, who gets together with George (Charlotte Ritchie), AKA “Dangerous Mary Poppins”, who has previously only dated men. The giddiness of the falling-in-love part is done briskly, mostly via montage. What follows is a funny, tender and sensitive look at obsession, trauma and the hard work that goes into a long-term partnership, when the bright flash of falling hard for someone has subsided. Its two seasons are warmly human, bittersweet and quite lovely.
Rebecca Nicholson, TV critic
Him & Her
Stefan Golaszewski’s Him & Her is a love story set in a bedsit inhabited by Steve and Becky (Russell Tovey and Sarah Solemani), who are both drowning and stewing in their own domesticity. It features two of the funniest and warmest performances in comedy history, Russell nailing many moments of physical comedy in a subdued setting, making us root for him in every scene, while Sarah’s subtle yet hilarious glances toward her desperately trying boyfriend make it one of the most authentic romcoms ever. The show gradually sprawls outward into the lives of horrendous bridezilla sister Laura, her sweet victim Shelly, closeted-himbo Paul and the cringe-inducing tagalong Dan, and constantly proves that a really good comedy only needs one little shithole flat and perfectly drawn characters trying to see past each others’ flaws.
Jack Rooke, creator of Big Boys
Lovesick
Lovesick had the rockiest of births – it was canned by Channel 4 after a single season, perhaps because it aired under the legitimately disastrous title Scrotal Recall – only to flourish on Netflix as one of the smartest, sweetest comedies of the last decade. When Johnny Flynn’s Dylan is diagnosed with chlamydia, he’s forced to contact everyone he has ever slept with, offering him a chance to re-examine old relationships and grow as a person. All of this edges him closer to Evie (Antonia Thomas), the old university friend with whom he’s secretly in love. Cleverly structured, perfectly executed and sincere in its emotions, Lovesick deserves its place in the pantheon.
Stuart Heritage, Guardian writer
Insecure
Issa Rae’s Insecure is easily my favourite romcom of all time. Not only was it great, not only was it hella Black, it was deliciously funny and compelling. As a millennial, Insecure was one of the first shows that felt completely relatable as someone trying to navigate adulthood, friendships and love. I loved how honest and flawed every character was, yet you rooted for everyone. This led to the most juicy storylines and plot twists. It’s no secret that this series was a major inspiration for my series Dreaming Whilst Black.
Adjani Salmon, creator of Dreaming Whilst Black
Catastrophe
When Rob finds out that Sharon is pregnant after their week-long transatlantic fling, he unforgettably declares: “A terrible thing has happened. Let’s make the most of it!” Over its four seasons, Sharon Horgan and Rob Delaney’s Catastrophe tries to do just that – and ends up with them married with two kids and pregnant with a third. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill first love romcom; it’s a brutal, truthful depiction of the endless endurance test that is parenting young kids while trying to carve out a happy-enough existence with a partner. It deals with the big stuff life throws at you increasingly as middle age marches on – addiction, strokes, death, affairs – but, God, it has beautiful moments in between all the hilarious barbs. Sharon and Rob’s last act – jumping in for a spontaneous dip while their kids nap in the car despite the “danger: rip currents” sign on the beach – seemed more tragic than romantic (are they floating through life together or drifting to certain death?) but it did ring absolutely true. It also gave us one of the greatest TV endings ever.
Kate Abbott, Guardian TV editor
Nobody Wants This
It’s often said romcoms stand or fall on the charm of the leads, and Kristen Bell as sex-dating podcaster Joanne and Adam Brody as “Hot Rabbi” Noah are a casting coup for the millennial audience. They share an easy chemistry, one of the most perfect first onscreen kisses in memory and, while Noah isn’t completely unproblematic (wasn’t the offhand treatment of his ex a little brutal?), it’s a genuine relief to crush on a male love interest who isn’t dark or twisted – but just quite delightful. Did I mention his beard?
Mhairi McFarlane, author of romantic comedy novel Cover Story
Sex and the City
Sex and the City was the blueprint for everything that has come since, but I wonder if we’ve collectively forgotten how revolutionary it was back then. Based on Candace Bushnell’s New York Observer column (and later book), her trials of dating in New York were given heart and structure by gay men (Darren Star and Michael Patrick King). After a decade of sexual puritanism necessitated by the Aids crisis, Star and King were able to put uninhibited sex back on the agenda through the lens of metropolitan singletons Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte. They have become the archetypes; they are iconoclasts. One was romantic, searching for her Big romance; another was career driven; Samantha was a sexual conquistador; and Charlotte was bound by old-fashioned dating rules. Much of what has followed owes a great debt to SATC. No longer is a woman defined by the man she ends up with; she’s defined as the woman she had to become in readiness for meaningful love. Though let us never speak of And Just Like That.
Juno Dawson, author and creator of Sex and the City podcast So I Got to Thinking
Starstruck
Rose Matafeo’s Starstruck was a gift to single people deprived of sex and intimacy when it first aired as we came out of lockdown. Not only was it a very funny nod to the romcoms we grew up on: a will-they won’t-they with cinema worker Jessie (Matafeo) and movie star Tom (Nikesh Patel). But it made the potential to date and fall in love feel tangible again – along with all the awkward, painful and thrilling moments. Take the glorious scene where Jessie leaves a one-night stand on a barge and is so ecstatic that she dances to Return of the Mack in the sun along Regent’s Canal in London (there is something extra-romantic about a love story playing out in the city you live in). The most wonderful moment, though, is when Jessie purposely misses her bus stop at the end of series one, because she wants to stay with Tom and give it a go. They nervously stare out of the window, smiling – then turn towards each other and launch into a massive snog. A real joy for all of us who know, oh so well, that tummy-flipping feeling of desperately not wanting a bus to come at all after a great first date.
Hollie Richardson, Guardian assistant TV editor
Queer As Folk
It’s not strictly a romcom. But it is funny. And romantic. And sexy. And sex positive (take that now mythic rimming scene between Charlie Hunnam and Aidan Gillen in episode one). In an era when, before it aired, MPs were debating cancelling EastEnders because it showed two men kissing, Queer As Folk made being gay seem cool. Glamorous even. Which was groundbreaking even when I watched it as a teenager in the 2000s on a DVD box set bought at our local Oxfam.
Alex Lawther, star of Alien: Earth and Leonard and Hungry Paul
The Office (US)
It’s not a traditional romcom, but there are a couple of romances in the US version of The Office that I love. Jim and Pam are so clearly in love with each other, and watching it you want it to happen so much – because their relationship is just so normal, but also so special. There’s also Michael and Holly. It’s not a traditional romance. He’s so pathetic and needy, and sometimes his behaviour is so worm-like, until he meets Holly, who is basically the female version of him. She’s silly and dorky, but also really sweet and completely in love with him, despite who he is. Suddenly Michael relaxes as a person, he just has this peace, and I think that’s really beautiful. It is so pure and wholesome. Watching it, you’re just overcome with absolute joy.
Harriet Kemsley, co-host of Single Ladies in Your Area podcast
Ever Decreasing Circles
Dig beneath the 1970ness of it and you’ll find the first attempt in sitcom to reflect love as it really is, as it really feels, without the trinkets and the fakery or the emotional bleach of gags. Penelope Wilton stands at the centre of it, giving a performance of profound truth. She transforms the flat, bloodless sitcom wife role into a nuanced portrait of love, frustration and endurance.
Stefan Golaszewski, creator of Him & Her, Mum and Marriage
Spaced
Spaced is mainly remembered for splicing the sitcom form with nerdy pop culture parody and bottling gen X social mores in the process. Really, it’s a heartstoppingly romantic comedy. We kick off with a meet-cute in a greasy spoon: Jessica Hynes’s wannabe journalist Daisy is flat-hunting via a copy of Loot (the year is 1999) and starts chatting to Simon Pegg’s wannabe comic book artist Tim. Yet the pair’s instant soulmate energy is quickly sublimated into comic shenanigans when they pose as a couple to secure a dream rental. It takes a maddeningly long time for life to imitate the lie. Luckily, the interim is stuffed with ingenious jokes and giddying stylistic invention. And we get to hang out with Daisy, perhaps the most recognisably human female protagonist in romcom history (and definitely the funniest and most likable). The whole thing ends with exquisite understatement: a 45-degree head tilt and one of the greatest needle drops ever. It’s more than worth the wait.
Rachel Aroesti, Guardian TV writer
Trying
If any Trying fans don’t know, they won’t be surprised at all to learn that Rafe Spall and Esther Smith became a couple while filming Andy Wolton’s gorgeous Richard Curtis-ish comedy. They are Jason and Nikki, who cannot have kids, wish to adopt, and have eccentric friends and family. All that’s fine … but the magic is in the chemistry between the two leads, which is right in that golden zone between enviable and relatable. She’s a worrier and he’s a joker, but she’s emotionally braver; he seems to calm her nervous excesses but probably needs his partner’s reassurance more. They interlock so neatly and so sweetly.
Jack Seale, Guardian TV writer
Bluey
Sure, Bluey is most frequently seen as a kids show, given that it’s: a) a cartoon b) a cartoon about dogs and c) definitely a kids show. But, like all great TV for children, inside lurks something that only parents can appreciate: a heartwarming spot of romance. Behind the wildly creative tales of childhood development lies the love of Chilli and Bandit. We see them bicker, make up and express a level of patience for each others’ foibles that is borderline superhuman – despite having to deal with two high-energy kids. One entire episode is based on Bandit trying to give Chilli some alone time, another around how lifelong love looks past a partner’s grosser habits to keep passion burning – or, as the show poignantly puts it, want to “smoochy kiss”. They’re kind, considerate, tender and so in love that they’ll sideswipe you with a touching expression of desire while role-playing robots – all the classic romantic tropes. Frankly, if it weren’t so damn aspirational, it would be annoying. Surely the greatest tale of romance ever conducted between blue and orange canine.
Alexi Duggins, Guardian deputy TV editor
Emily in Paris
You might consider Emily in Paris as merely an annoying Netflix series in which an American speaks too much English to a load of French people and which – at least initially – ticked off the good people of l’Hexagone. Not only is it not so annoying any more I just prefer to think of it as more of a performance art piece these days) it’s also my favourite TV romcom. As well as the very French menage a trois enjoyed by her boss, Sylvie, the show has also long dangled the possibility of romance between Emily and Paris’s top chef Gabriel. It has simmered away like a fine soupe à l’oignon for four seasons now, regularly hindered by miscommunications and other suitors. Such is the ridiculousness of the show, I can barely remember what happened at the end of its last season. But I do know that Emily is in Rome and that she has a new love interest, Marcello, who I’m sure will absolutely not get a well-rounded story arc in season five. Emily will be back in France before we know it, and surely reunited with Gabriel. It may be the city where she speaks her own language loudly and slowly but, well, Paris is also the city of love.
Hannah J Davies, Guardian TV writer
