It’s something of a national embarrassment that the country that produced Shakespeare and Jane Austen has failed to muster a half-decent rom-com in over 100 years (let’s draw a discrete veil for now across the work of Richard Curtis). So the fizzing, funny, irresistible spree of is cause for hats in the air. Following the freshly single Yas and Dom from their meet-cute in some art gallery loos, through the streets, markets, parks and bars of Peckham and Brixton, Raine Allen-Miller’s debut feature does for south London what Jacques Demy did for Cherbourg, what Richard Linklater did for Vienna, what
