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The Flatshare review: This romcom won’t save the London rental market, but it might make you smile

At a time when it feels like we’ve seen every romcom premise under the sun, the concept of two total strangers sharing a bed every night might be the first truly original idea I’ve heard in years. No wonder Beth O’Leary’s debut novel The Flatshare has been glued to the hands of train passengers and beach loungers since it was released in 2019. And now, among a sea of romantic comedies determined to deconstruct the genre, the TV adaptation on Paramount+ is charming and tightly written – knowing, but never snarky.

We open to the sight of mascara-streaked, recently dumped Tiffany (Jessica Brown Findlay), slumped on the floor as Paloma Faith warbles about how “only love can hurt like this”. In order to take control (and save money amid the hellish London rental market) post break-up, Tiffany is going to sublet a one-bed flat in south London. But this is not your average SpareRoom arrangement. Her flatmate Leon (Anthony Welsh) works night shifts at a hospice and has the flat 8am until 8pm, when he strips the bed and leaves for work. From 8pm until 8am (plus weekends), Tiffany has the flat to herself. The pair can never meet: “no crossover” is a stipulated part of their agreement.

From the get-go, their lives play out in tandem, the screen cleaved in half and signalling that it’s not just their sleep schedules that are polar opposites. Tiffany works for an online youth culture magazine/content farm, which looks and feels a lot like Vice, and dreams of making a difference while churning out clickbait. Leon is the classic good guy, loved by sick children and OAPs. Tiffany throws back shot after shot in a bar. Leon’s patients swallow pills. You should root for Leon, but it’s clear he’s a terrible boyfriend to the uptight Kay (Klariza Clayton) and hasn’t called his mum in a long time.

But these imperfections work for Tiffany and Leon, rather than against them. They’re not some flawless, implausible romcom couple – just as their set-up comments on the bleak rental landscape, their relationship is rooted in the reality that we’re all a bit unbearable. It’s partly excellent individual performances, but there’s also an overpowering chemistry between them, one that pervades through the Post-It Notes they use to converse. But it’s hard not to warm to them. Brown Findlay makes even Tiffany’s most infuriating tendencies endearing, while Welsh brings a surprising vulnerability to Leon. There’s also an overpowering chemistry between them, one that even manages to pervade through the Post-It Notes they send each other.

Anthony Welsh as Leon in ‘The Flatshare' (Paramount Plus)
Anthony Welsh as Leon in ‘The Flatshare' (Paramount Plus)

With their lives so different, the world that surrounds our central couple is vast and varied. There’s a stirring subplot involving Leon’s incarcerated brother Richie (Shaq B Grant), while Tiffany’s high-flying best friends Maia (Shaniqua Okwok) and Mo (Disney’s future Prince Eric, Jonah Hauer-King) break out of their supporting stereotypes and, in turn, receive some of the most tender moments of the series. As Tiffany’s boss, Dustin Demri-Burns (Stath Lets Flats, Am I Being Unreasonable?) proves yet again to be a dab hand at playing insufferable, oleaginous types, here commissioning stories with the words: “Yeah that’s good. It’s f***ed up, I like it.” I only wish there was some more depth in the script for Leon’s long-suffering girlfriend Kay, who slips into cartoon villain territory.

In the end, though, it was the Post-Its that sold The Flatshare to me. These little paper messages are the perfect catalyst for romcom hijinks, for missed meanings and manipulation, but they also nod to a pre-internet era of dating when things were a little bit more, dare I say it, romantic. After the pair finally come face to face (or other body part to other body part), Tiffany has a sex dream where a flurry of sticky paper squares shower over her like an erotic snowstorm. It’s a moment of joyful silliness, a welcome piece of positivity within a story proving just how bleak the housing crisis is. It might not be a realistic solution, but it might make you smile.