AP photo
Jonathan Roumie, from left, Kevin James, and Kim Coates attend the premiere of ‘Solo Mio’ at Regal Times Square on Jan. 27, in New York.

Released just in time for Valentine’s Day, “Solo Mio” arrives as a warm, scenic reminder that the romantic comedy still has plenty of life left when it leans into sincerity rather than snark.

Kevin James, long associated with broad physical humor, surprises with a gentler, more vulnerable performance that anchors a film built on heartbreak, healing and the unexpected ways a person can begin again.

James plays Matt, a working-class everyman who has spent months planning the perfect honeymoon to Italy with his schoolteacher fiancée, played by Julie Ann Emery. The flowers are arranged, the guests are seated, the future is mapped out. And then she doesn’t show. The shock lands hard, and James lets the moment breathe. There’s no mugging, no punchline — just a man blindsided by the collapse of the life he thought he was stepping into.

Unable to recoup the cost of the trip, and perhaps unwilling to sit alone with his grief, Matt boards the plane to Rome anyway. What follows is a gentle, sometimes meandering journey through loss, friendship, and the possibility of starting over.

Rome is captured with affectionate detail: the cobblestone alleys, the sunlit piazzas, the clatter of espresso cups. The film revels in the sensory pleasures of the city. The sights, the music, the landscapes, the food–everything is presented with a postcard’s warmth, but without feeling artificial.

Along the way, Matt falls in with a small circle of fellow travelers. Kim Coates brings a burst of chaotic energy as Julian, a man determined to wring every drop of joy out of life. Jonathan Roumie plays Neil, a henpecked but kind-hearted companion who offers Matt a quieter form of support.

Their partners, portrayed by Alyson Hannigan and Julie Cerda, are given too little screen time–a missed opportunity in a film that wants to explore both love and marriage. Still, the group’s camaraderie gives Matt the space to breathe again, to laugh again, and to imagine a life beyond the altar.

The emotional center of the film arrives in the form of Gia, a local coffee shop owner played by Nicole Grimaudo. She’s warm, magnetic, and almost too perfect — a stunner who takes an immediate interest in Matt.

At first, her pursuit threatens to stretch the film’s realism. Why would someone so luminous be drawn to a man still reeling from heartbreak? But Grimaudo brings enough sincerity to make the connection believable, and James meets her with a gentleness that feels new for him. Their chemistry is unforced, their conversations tentative and sweet rather than sugary.

James co-wrote and co-produced “Solo Mio,” and the film’s softness reflects a shift in his career. At 60, he brings a maturity to Matt that feels earned. He’s still the big-hearted lug audiences know, but here he’s bruised, cautious, and quietly yearning for connection. Even when an attractive woman throws herself at him early in the film, he can’t bring himself to respond. He’s too hurt, too raw. You want to give him a hug and tell him brighter days are coming — or at least encourage him to keep stopping by Gia’s café.

The film’s obstacles are predictable, and the story pieces snap together with the efficiency of a well-worn formula. Rom-coms thrive on familiarity, but “Solo Mio” occasionally leans too heavily on it, relying on the Italian scenery and soundtrack to fill in emotional gaps. Still, the formula works because the film never pretends to be anything other than what it is: a sweet, scenic Valentine to starting over.

What elevates “Solo Mio” is its sincerity. It doesn’t wink at the audience or undercut its own emotions. It believes in love, in healing, in the possibility of joy after heartbreak. And it believes in Matt, a man who never expected to be single in Rome but who finds, almost accidentally, that life still has surprises left for him.

James built a career on shlubby humor, from sitcoms to the “Paul Blart” films. Here, he shows a different side: a bruised Romeo with a big heart and a quiet longing for connection. It’s a lovely shift, and one that gives “Solo Mio” more emotional weight than its familiar structure might suggest.

It might not reinvent the romantic comedy, but it delivers exactly what the genre promises: warmth, charm, and the hope that love can bloom in the most unexpected places. For anyone seeking a scenic, feel-good escape — especially on Valentine’s Day — “Solo Mio” is a delightful way to spend 90 minutes.

Rating: PG

Runtime: 100 minutes

Grade: B

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Greg Williams is a reporter and Weekend Editor for The Sentinel. A Mifflin County native, he has been writing for The Sentinel since 1991.