Name: How to Win a Prince
Genre: TV Movie, Comedy, Romance
Released: 2023-09-03T00:00:00+00:00
Cast: Anna Hopkins, Ryan Bruce, Ed Pinker, Alia DeSantis, Dianne Aguilar

The opening scene of How to Win a Prince (2023) sets the tone: Nina Bower (Anna Hopkins), a perpetually single dating coach, delivers a PowerPoint presentation on love with all the enthusiasm of someone filing taxes. The screen behind her flashes generic stock photos of couples—her pointer clicking through them like a metronome counting off seconds until she can escape. It’s a sharp, self-aware moment that promises a rom-com with bite, but director Graeme Campbell’s TV movie never fully commits to its potential.

The premise is familiar but serviceable: Nina takes on Prince Freddie (Ed Pinker) as a client, intending to seduce him while coaching him through New York’s dating scene. Instead, she finds herself drawn to his right-hand man, Edward Cotton (Ryan Bruce). The setup allows for witty banter and fish-out-of-water humor, but the execution often feels rote. How to Win a Prince is a film that knows its tropes—dating coach falls for the wrong guy, royal romance in the modern world—but struggles to elevate them beyond cliché.

Where the film stumbles is in its pacing and tonal inconsistency. The first act zips along with breezy charm, introducing Nina as a sharp-tongued dating guru who’s all advice but no action when it comes to her own love life. When Prince Freddie walks into her office—a tall, awkward figure in a tailored suit that looks like it was borrowed from a much older man—there’s a promising spark of absurdity. The prince is in New York to find love, but his royal upbringing has left him clueless about modern dating. Enter Nina, who sees an opportunity to land a prince and prove her own dating expertise.

The middle act, however, drags. The film tries to juggle satire of dating culture, royal whimsy, and workplace comedy, but these elements never coalesce into something cohesive. Scenes that should fizz with tension—Nina and Edward’s charged encounters, Freddie’s disastrous dates—often feel flat. A dinner scene at a trendy restaurant is supposed to be a turning point for Nina and Edward, but the dialogue feels stilted, and the chemistry that was building in earlier scenes dissipates.

Campbell’s direction is competent but uninspired. He relies too heavily on static shots of characters talking at each other rather than with each other. The cinematography leans heavily on soft lighting and close-ups, which might work for a fairy-tale aesthetic but here just feel like lazy shorthand for “romance.” There are moments where the visuals click—Prince Freddie navigating a packed subway car in full regalia is a standout sequence, thanks to Pinker’s deadpan delivery—but these are exceptions rather than the rule.

The performances are the film’s strongest asset. Hopkins carries the weight of the lead role with ease, balancing Nina’s professional confidence with her vulnerability. There’s a scene where Nina, after a particularly disastrous date for Freddie, sits on her apartment floor surrounded by takeout containers and wine bottles, lamenting her own dating misadventures. Hopkins’ delivery is raw and relatable, grounding the film in something genuine.

Bruce is a pleasing foil as Edward, though his character arc—from stiff royal aide to lovestruck everyman—is predictable. He brings a dry wit to the role, particularly in scenes where he’s forced to navigate Nina’s chaotic dating advice. Pinker steals scenes as Freddie, playing the prince with a delightful mix of arrogance and childlike wonder. His physical comedy is a highlight, especially in a scene where he attempts to use a smartphone for the first time, his long fingers fumbling with the tiny screen.

The script, credited to Cassie Keenan and Harry ter Haar, leans too heavily on clichés: the jaded dating coach who secretly wants love, the stuffy royal who longs for freedom, the lovable best friend (Alia DeSantis as Taz) who delivers exposition-laden monologues. These tropes are familiar because they work when executed well, but here they feel recycled without fresh insight.

The film’s attempts at satire are equally hit-or-miss. A montage of Freddie attempting modern dating—swiping left on his phone with a quill pen, cringing at the casualness of first names—is genuinely funny. But these moments are too sparse to salvage the whole. The romance between Nina and Edward fizzles more than it sizzles, and the film’s occasional self-awareness lifts it above pure schlock but not by much.

How to Win a Prince isn’t without charm. There’s a scene where Freddie and Nina visit a bustling farmers’ market, the prince wide-eyed at the sheer volume of choices—apples, cheeses, artisanal breads. It’s a simple moment, but Pinker’s reactions and Hopkins’ patient guidance create a fleeting sense of magic. The film’s occasional bursts of wit and warmth make it watchable, even if they’re not enough to sustain it.

In the end, How to Win a Prince is a forgettable but occasionally entertaining TV movie. It’s a film that knows its tropes but lacks the originality or depth to reinvent them.