‘The Wrong Paris’ (2025) Netflix Movie Review - A Rom-Com That’s Part Reality TV, Part Small-Town Daydream

I watched The Wrong Paris expecting some cheesy laughs, but also hoping for a heart somewhere in the mix. There is a heart, but sometimes it’s buried under clichés and contrived plot turns. Still, it’s not all bad. Let me take you through what works, what doesn’t, and whether this Netflix flick is worth your time.

First, the good stuff: Miranda Cosgrove as Dawn is likable. She’s earnest about her art school dreams, weighed down by bills, family, and the kind of naïve optimism that makes rom-coms bearable. Her struggle to get into a Parisian art school without financial help does give the movie stakes beyond “Which knit sweater do I wear tonight?” Her family, especially the grandmother, gives emotional grounding; there are moments when Dawn being a decent human, caring for the people she loves, gives the film texture.

Pierson Fodé as Trey, the bachelor cowboy, is probably the best thing here. He leans fully into the charm, the rustic faults, and yes, even the shirtless cowboy trope (because sometimes that’s what the audience tunes in for). Their chemistry is serviceable—maybe not blazing, but enough that you root for their awkward moments and wish their miscommunications weren’t so predictable. The supporting cast has some brightness: there’s a friend in Jasmine who offers a calmer foil, there’s Lexi as the over-the-top rival, and the producer Rachel (played by Yvonne Orji) brings occasional sharpness to the parody of dating shows.

The concept is fun. Reality TV meets mistaken geography is a punchy hook. The idea that someone expects Paris, France, and gets Paris, Texas is a fine setup for chaos, irony, and a critique (or at least a send-up) of how romantic fantasy is sold on TV. Some of the challenges on the show, the smaller moments when Dawn tries to sabotage her own chances just to get the money, these are amusing. There are decent visual quirks: ranch land, cowboys, mud, it tries to lean into its Texas-ness even if it was shot elsewhere. (Fun trivia: most of it was filmed in British Columbia, standing in for Texas.)

But the weak parts pile up fast enough that they threaten to collapse the fun. The bigger problem is that much of the movie follows rom-com checkboxes so closely, you feel like you’ve seen most of it before. Dawn’s transformation from “I’ll just take the cash” to “Maybe love is more important” arrives with zero suspense. You know which way it has to go, so the twists feel more like “Oh yes, this is happening” rather than surprises.

The writing is inconsistent. Sometimes the dialogue lands with wit; other times it slips into lines so generic you could replace “I love you” with “I like your sweater” and nobody would notice. Dawn’s backstory (her parents, her artist life, her childhood) is sketched roughly just enough so we understand she has pain, but not enough to make that pain deeply felt. For a movie that leans on emotional stakes, that’s a miss.

Also, the movie wants to satirize reality dating shows, but rarely pushes far enough. There are nods to absurdity (the rival contestants, the show’s challenges, producers scheming), but the satire never gets sharp. Most of the time, it ends up using the same tropes it might have meant to mock, reinforcing them rather than dismantling them. If I were the director, I’d say lean more into how bizarre these shows are; this movie dips a toe rather than diving.

Technically, it’s okay—but not exceptional. The cinematography, editing, and pace—all serviceable. But there are awkward transitions, moments where the movie wants to tug on your emotions but rushes in with a montage or a “let’s all care now” scene. If the buildup were sharper, those moments might land harder.

Where it fails more than once is credibility. Sometimes the “reality show” logic doesn’t make sense. For example, how does Dawn fail to realize the show is in Texas until very late? How do some of the show’s side-characters behave in ways that feel inserted for drama rather than consistent with who they’re supposed to be? And there are plot contrivances, information hidden, revealed, etc., that are so convenient they pull you out of the story. When Dawn finally faces her choice between Paris (France) and Trey, you believe the stakes—but by then you’ve already guessed what will happen.

Also, the tonal balance between satire and sincerity doesn’t always hold. In some scenes you’re meant to laugh, in others to feel something real—and sometimes those two pull in opposite directions, leaving you uncommitted. The movie doesn’t always decide if it wants to be a comfortable fantasy or a sharp commentary. It tries both, but neither gets full strength.

Still, for all its flaws, The Wrong Paris manages to deliver enough enjoyment. If your expectations are modest, you’ll get a warm, fluffy ride. There are sweet moments: the art, the family, Dawn’s friendship with Jasmine, Trey’s ranch-life bits. Also, there’s something satisfying about someone chasing their dream, facing disappointment, making a mess of things, and still trying.

The ending is cheesy, yes, but it is also earned enough in its own genre. There’s a payoff: Dawn does more than just choose between money and love; she faces what she truly wants, what she’s willing to sacrifice, and what sacrifices she won’t make. And Trey, in his cowboy way, does too. While it doesn’t break wide open new ground for rom-coms, it stays true to the promise of the setup.

If I were giving this film a grade, it’s not great, but it has charm. It’s flawed, but sometimes charm is all you need when you want to turn your brain off, see something pretty, laugh at ridiculousness, and leave feeling a little lighter.

So: watch it if you like predictable, cozy romance with a twist of reality show absurdity. Skip it if you want something surprising, deep, or very original. For the genre’s faithful, The Wrong Paris mostly hits its target, just don’t expect fireworks.

Final Score- [4/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times