How Finding Emily Reshapes the Modern Rom‑Com

From the makers of Bridget Jones’s Diary and Love Actually comes an indie rom-com about a wrong number that spirals into a messy, campus-wide search for love, and the unexpected connection that follows.

Finding Emily feels like a real reclamation of the romantic comedy: intimate and cinematic with an indie pulse. For director Alicia MacDonald, the move from episodic television to a studio-backed feature was both a step up in scale, and a fundamental shift in authorship. “Making a film was a total gear-change for me,” she reflects. “There was no worrying about what was happening in other episodes or adhering to a previously established style, it was all on me.” That exhilaration came with pressure - “Shiiiiiit, it’s all on me, do we have it?!” - but also with the joy of assembling her own creative family. “It was the first time I was able to choose my HODs and build my own team… it was a whole new joy.”

That sense of ownership runs through Finding Emily. Alicia is acutely aware that “films live forever in a different way to telly,” and that asking an audience to leave their homes and sit in the dark of the cinema is “a profound responsibility.” It’s perhaps why the film treats its genre with such care. Far from apologising for being a rom‑com, Alicia interrogates the form itself. “I feel like the term ‘romcom’ has almost become a dirty word,” she says. Her guiding provocation was simple: “let’s make a good romcom… a studio film with an indie soul.”

At the heart of the film’s tonal balance is Alicia’s collaboration with writer Rachel Hirons. “My thing was always how can we make it feel real?” Alicia says. Detailed backstories, psychological specificity and a refusal to let supporting characters become mere foils anchor the comedy in humanity. The humour emerges, naturally, from “specific and nuanced human beings just trying their best in a wily world,” with sincerity and satire in constant, productive conversation. That balance was actively tested moment to moment. “I like to always try a joke in a moment of serious pathos or panic,” Alicia notes, a strategy she sees as provoking “a surprising and very real response from audiences,” and one that informed not just the writing, but the edit and overall rhythm of the film.

That ambition crystallised early in conversations with cinematographer Rachel Clark BSC. “From the very first meeting myself and Alicia were aligned in our tastes,” Rachel says. Their shared reference pool stretched beyond rom‑coms to encompass photography, music, coming‑of‑age films and the visual language of the North of England. “All these elements combined painted a picture of how the film should feel, the tone, the pace, the joy.” Importantly, they recognised the opportunity to re‑locate a traditionally American mode of storytelling. “This was unique opportunity to bring this kind of story to a UK audience, for people to see themselves on screen.” Authenticity became the guiding principle. “We wanted the film to feel grounded and genuine… searching for authenticity over the glossy lush type of images you might usually associated with rom-coms.”

One of the film’s defining visual choices is its commitment to the two-shot. Inspired by When Harry Met Sally, they frequently forgo close ups to hold Emily and Owen together in frame, especially in big emotional moments. “Some of our favourite shots in the film are their two shots where we just let the whole thing play out between them” adds Rachel.

To avoid the dead space of screen inserts, they handled the digital communication of emails, messages etc., inventively. “We put a lot of thought into finding alternative solutions to tell this story,” Rachel notes, citing the Steadicam oner that follows Owen through his house as hundreds of mis‑sent emails flood in. The sequence is playful, fluid and character‑driven.

Manchester, too, becomes an influential presence and is set in the city writer Rachel Hirons grew up near. Alicia wanted the city to “feel like a character that impacted everything but one that held the action lightly, casually and coolly.” Even complex location choices, like shooting on Canal Street, are motivated by the interior states of characters, rather than being shown simply as a landmark. 

Technically, the film leans into a classic visual language. Rachel’s choices were “purely creative and emotional,” shaped by a desire to evoke the feeling of celluloid without pastiche. Shooting in 1.85 with spherical lenses, pairing the Sony Venice with Vintage Rehoused Konica Hexanon, she searched for something “timeless”. “I didn’t want the film to feel too modern or glossy and digital.” That foundation was further sculpted in the grade.

Colourist Jateen Patel describes a collaboration defined by creative clarity. “Their creative shorthand meant the visual strategy was already sophisticated before the grade even began,” he says. “We mapped the character arcs, creating clear visual peaks and troughs that mirror the emotional journey found in the edit.” It was essential, he notes, to avoid both northern cliché and rom‑com artificiality, resulting in “an authentic Manchester magic.” One recurring device - the so‑called “love lens” - allowed the grade to gently heighten intimacy, adding “extra patterned texture, colour clouds and enhanced colour and light movement” as the characters’ emotional focus narrows.

In the end, Finding Emily is a film shaped as much by craft as it is by feeling. Its warmth never feels imposed because it was already there; in the city, in the performances, and in the conversations shared between takes. As Alicia puts it, “I feel queasily lucky to have had the opportunity to make a film (a film!)” And that wonder is palpable on screen.

Finding Emily is out in UK cinemas now.