Longing for an enchanted April

Today it would be a Facebook post

It’s April, which made me wonder if there had ever been any films specifically focused on the what may be our most chaotic month in terms of weather. A search led me to Enchanted April.

Directed by Mike Newell, the story follows four women (Miranda Richardson, Polly Walker, Josie Lawrence and Joan Plowright, who was Oscar nominated for her role) on a vacation in Italy as they each come to grips with their lives and relationships. As they get to know one another, their personalities often clash, but also inspire as they each reassess goals and reexamine their romantic and familial relationships. Rounding out the cast are three of the finest actors the U.K. has provided — Jim Broadbent, Alfred Molina, and Neville Phillips.

In the 1990s, I worked in the art department at Miramax Films, the distributor of Enchanted April. During the first weeks of my employment, I remember the entire company was treated to a catered lunch, a celebration to recognize the grosses of Enchanted April reaching $15M. It was a remarkable feat for a small, British title and even more remarkable for this small, indie distributor which go on to make an even bigger splash in the industry. We all know how that story ended, but in this moment, we were celebrating the fact that in art house cinemas across the country, a quaint story of four strangers in an Italian villa in the early 1920s had resonated so deeply for audiences.

Enchanted April is not groundbreaking in any way. Part of its charm is that it’s a simple story, simply told. As the scene below reveals, there’s a clear goal — to get away from our dreary, rainy lives in London for a moment to experience something beautiful. They have a plan — to share the expenses with other women who wish to have a moment alone, away from their obligations to husbands or family or work. And then like any good movie, there are complications — the arrival of the husbands, family, and work. Throw in a little magical realism and you’ve got everything you need to make a delicious confection of a film.

I remember watching this scene back then and thinking how odd it was. Two strangers, Rose (Richardson) being approaches by Lottie (Lawrence) in a public reading room of some kind in London. But I also saw something familiar. Lottie approaches Rose with confidence and a bold suggestion. As a gay man in New York City in the 1990s, we did this all this time. In a way, it was the opposite of extraordinary; it was ordinary.

Before social media and apps, we shared whispered conversations in libraries and museums and book stores, glances across restaurants and bars and coffee shops. People approached and spoke to each other. I don’t mean to suggest that there’s anything particularly queer about this film but it’s not not queer. It’s exhilarating to watch two human beings in the same space, meeting for the first time, and reacting to a newspaper ad! Set in modern times, the scene would have Lottie in her kitchen at her laptop and Rose scrolling on her phone while in line at Starbucks, each reading the same Facebook post about an Italian villa. Maybe one of them would offer a thumbs up?

In 2026, would Lottie and Rose ever meet? Would they even want to? Maybe. But one thing would be missed: the longing. Lottie approaches because she senses Rose’s longing, her sadness. She recognizes it because she, too, feels it. This can only happen in the presence of another person. If you find yourself like me, longing for a world of handwritten letters and advertisements in newspapers and exchanged glances across smoky rooms, check out Enchanted April.