In Keagan Karnes’ romantic comedy Love on Tap, Amber (Kennedy McMann) is the owner of the struggling Guzzler’s Brewery in a small town, a business that her late father (Butch Peel ) started, which she feels obligated to maintain. The opening of the brewery is visited in a flashback where Amber’s dad tells her the whole enterprise would one day be hers. This comes much sooner than they thought. After his passing, she is fixated on making it a success, though she is unskilled at managing a business. She pours out her troubles to her father in the form of a pet Alpaca named Fred.
Samuel (Alex Moffat), a slick big city marketing expert, arrives claiming he was hired by her father before he died. She rejects his help. Her attitude changes when an over-the-top caricature of a banker, named Mr. Bank (Joel de la Fuente), calls in her loan. Samuel dives in to get sales up and save the brewery. In the meantime, the allure of the small town (and of Amber) begins to seep into his skin, as he wonders for the first time what it might be like to settle down. He is delighted with the quirky townsfolk. From the bumbling Barney Fife-esque police officer Hayley (Caroline Kingsley), to the martial arts devotee Raiden (Jamey Maurice Clay), the town is rife with charming oddballs.
Amber wants to craft her own beer recipes, but she lacks the confidence to experiment with her father’s formulas. Samuel pushes her to pursue it. She makes, of course, an “amber ale.” Ultimately she ignores much of Samuel’s advice, refusing practical financial concessions because she doesn’t want to betray her legacy.
“… Amber is the owner of a struggling brewery in a small town …”
The business is on the cusp of a new direction when Mr. Bank offers to buy the brewery, and Samuel gets another consulting job. As he drives away, he has an emotional epiphany and is transfixed by the lyrics of Train’s Drops of Jupiter (one of those songs you hate yourself for liking). Right about then, Mr. Bank rolls up to his own walk-up music to seal the deal. Amber considers herself a failure for selling the brewery. It’s easy to see where this is going, but that is not objectionable, as this joint is not about innovative dénouement.
The performances in Love on Tap are correctly tuned to the genre. They are good, but in a goofy sitcom way, with the exception of McCann, who plays Amber completely straight with no affected silliness. Her performance provides the required emotional weight. Having the film set and filmed in an actual brewery is a nice touch of authenticity. The Alpaca playing Fred turns in a delightful performance, but is uncredited.
The genre of the “Hallmark” style Rom-Com is strict in its defining characteristics. In this blueprint, any action that doesn’t have dialogue will come with a heartfelt pop song. The plot is usually about discovering the joys of small-town life, or a single woman facing impossible odds, or a bank foreclosing on the farm (or the brewery), and so on. The script is a mad-lib. Only the locations, character names, and complicating details change. Some viewers might find this dull and repetitive, but there is a vast audience that loves the predictability of it. If you’ve seen Doc Hollywood, then you’ve seen the prototype. Bottom line, if you seek out this experience, then you’re in good hands with Karnes. If light beer was a movie, it would be Love on Tap.
Learn more at the official Love on Tap website.
"…If light beer was a movie "
