What if your life wasn’t just like a movie, but you were actively trying to force it into a 90-minute Hollywood arc? For Liz Buxbaum, fictional protagonist, romantic comedies aren’t just entertainment, they are the final, fragile connection she has to the mother she lost. Every trope, every soundtrack, and every perfectly timed rainstorm is a way to stay close to a memory that is slowly fading. What does she do when her annoying next-door-nemesis starts to challenge her perfect rom-com life, written by her mother?

Lynn Painter, a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author best known for her hit rom-coms, has mastered the art of writing witty, heartfelt stories, causing her YA debut novel, “Better Than the Movies,” to surge in popularity worldwide. Despite being best known for her YA books, she also has written successful adult rom-coms like “Mr. Wrong Number” and “The Love Wager.” Beyond her versatility, Painter’s signature style lies in cinematic approach to storytelling, often weaving in curated soundtracks along with iconic movie references directly into her writing, a nod to her own lifelong obsession with the genre.

“Better Than the Movies” is a YA contemporary rom-com that follows Liz Buxbaum, a high school senior, whose life is governed by the cinematic rules of the rom-com movies she watched with her late-mother, who also happened to write her own. When her childhood crush, Michael Young, moves back to town, Liz sees a chance for her own “happily ever after.” But there’s one obstacle: Michael had already been befriended by her lifelong nemesis and next door neighbor, Wes Bennet. Despite their differences, Liz strikes a deal with the irritating Wes to win Michael’s attention. If he helps her, she’ll stop their years-long war over their shared parking space, letting him get The Spot forever. As they stage “meet-cutes” for Liz and Michael, the lines between their fake alliance and their real feelings begin to merge. Beyond the promposals and endless banter, the story follows Liz as she navigates her grief and the realization that her life is often a lot messier, and better, than any scripted movie. This balance between realism and romanticized storytelling is part of what makes the book so engaging. Kaylee Crosbie, a freshman at Casa Grande, notes that she “really enjoyed the book,” describing it as both realistic and “entertaining and rom-comy.”

As a reader who typically shies away from the romance genre due to the “cringe” often experienced while reading or the overly explicit content, Painter’s execution is a breath of fresh air for me. Despite being a serial reader, it is rare for a story to pull me in so completely that I feel truly “sucked in,” yet Better Than the Movies did just that. While Painter’s writing is pretty straight-forward and easy to read, its true power lies in her pacing and voice. The short, energetic chapters create a “bingeable” quality that makes it easy to get sucked into Liz’s world. More importantly, the writing avoids the typical genre pitfalls by grounding the romance in authentic banter rather than forced drama. Liz’s inner monologue causes the book to feel like a face-time with a good friend, which allows a reader to fully immerse themselves in the story while reading. Paired with the clever use of rom-com quotes as the header for each chapter adds another level of expertise that makes the entire reading experience feel intentional and immersive. 

Painter has mastered the ability to balance tone. She flawlessly blends high-stakes “cringe” humor – the kind that makes you want to cover your eyes during Liz’s most awkward moments – with a heartfelt, swoon-worthy romance that feels entirely earned. This balance creates a highly engaging, fast-paced “cinematic” feel, making the reader feel as though they are watching a movie unfold rather than just reading words on a page. This attention to detail enhances the reading experience, and Alexa Martinez, a junior at Casa Grande, agrees, saying that the references “made the book more enjoyable,” adding that even unfamiliar ones “gave [her] more movies to add to [her] watch list.”  It’s this specific energy that causes the book to become addicting; you’re constantly switching between laughing at the disastrous ‘meet-cutes’ and rooting for the genuine connection growing between Liz and Wes. 

However, this cinematic energy would mean very little if the characters themselves didn’t have the depth to back it up. Liz Buxbaum, in particular, is a memorable character because her obsession with rom-coms is rooted in something much deeper than mere fandom – it’s her way of staying connected to her late mother. For anyone who has navigated the weight of parental grief, Liz’s “main character” fantasies feel less like a hobby and more like a lifeline – creating a sense of relatability. By filtering her world by wearing rose-colored glasses creating romantic tropes and carefully curating soundtracks, she attempts to orchestrate a sense of control over a life where she’s already been dealt the ultimate loss. 

Her likeability stems from this raw, messy honesty. This relatability doesn’t just stem from my perspective, as shown when Crosbie shared that she “definitely related to [her],” highlighting her personality and interests as what made the story especially enjoyable. Liz isn’t just a music lover or a rom-com enthusiast; she uses her playlists and tropes to bridge the gap between her internal world and her complicated external reality. This is most evident in her friendships, which are refreshingly non-linear. Liz’s struggle to balance life-long bonds with new relationships feels strikingly real, capturing that specific teenage anxiety of trying to fit into a pre-written script while your heart is pulling you towards a different ending. It’s this combination of vulnerability and “cringe-inducing” relatability that makes Liz feel more like a best-friend on face-time rather than a fictional protagonist. 

While Liz provides the book with a whimsical energy, Wes Bennet provides its grounding heart. Painter succeeds in making Wes more than just the “boy next door”; he is written with a sharp, observant intelligence that makes him the ultimate observer of Liz’s true self. What makes Wes so memorable is the “stealth” of his affection. Unlike the grand, cinematic gestures that Liz expects from Michael, Wes’s love is found in the margins: in the banter he uses to distract her from anxiety, and in the way he remembers small, unscripted details of her life that she doesn’t think anybody notices. 

By giving Wes a personality that is both teasing and deeply protective, Painter creates a hero who is likeable because he doesn’t try to change Liz’s “too muchness.” Instead, he meets her where she is. He is the first to call-out her performative lifestyle, not with the intentions of being cruel, but to remind her that she is enough even without a soundtrack playing in the background. This balance of wit and genuine empathy is what makes Wes the perfect catalyst for Liz’s growth; he is the person who finally makes her realize the real world is worth living in, rather than her scripted one. His role as her wingman is a testament to this, as he selflessly helps her pursue Michael just to give her the space to realize the mismatch on her own terms, despite his endless teasing. Despite being deeply in love with her himself, his quiet patience ultimately allows Liz to outgrow her cinematic fantasies at her own pace, proving he cares more about her happiness than his own. Ultimately, Wes is the one who makes her realize she doesn’t need to perform or change to find her “happily ever after”; he loves the authentic, messy Liz Buxbaum, not the “cool girl” persona she feels pressured to project around Michael. 

Despite her outstanding execution of her main characters, Painter is equally skilled at managing the supporting cast, using Michael Young and Jocelyn – whose last name was never stated – to sharpen the novel’s emotional and thematic contrast. Michael, while initially framed as Liz’s idealized “perfect guy,” is intentionally written with a kind of narrative flatness; he embodies the polished, predictable love interest straight out of Liz’s favorite movies, which ultimately highlights how little he truly sees or understands her. In contrast, Jocelyn brings a refreshing sense of grounded authenticity to the story, acting as both a loyal friend and a subtle voice of reason when Liz’s fantasies begin to blur too far into reality – even though it doesn’t end up working. Rather than existing purely as plot devices, both characters serve a larger purpose: Michael represents the allure of a scripted, surface-level romance, while Jocelyn reinforces the importance of genuine connection and self-awareness. Together, they help push Liz toward her realization that the life she’s been trying to “write” isn’t nearly as meaningful as the one she’s actually living. 

Along with the well-written characters, the novel’s plot is also extremely well-written as it closely mirrors the classic structure of a rom-com; however, what makes it effective is how intentionally Painter both leans into and subtly disrupts those familiar beats. At its core, the story follows a predictable arc – childhood crush returns, fake alliance forms, feelings blur, and truths are inevitably revealed – yet it never feels stale because of the self-awareness embedded within it. As a reader, this structure made the book incredibly easy to invest in; there’s a certain comfort in recognizing the trajectory while still feeling curious about how it will unfold. The “wingman” arrangement between Liz and Wes acts as a strong narrative engine, creating consistent momentum through a series of staged meet-cutes that are as entertaining as they are revealing. However, what really elevates the plot beyond a standard trope-driven romance is the way those moments often fall apart, exposing the gap between Liz’s expectations and reality. This pattern not only adds humor but also reinforces the idea that life cannot be cleanly scripted. At times, the predictability of the storyline does make certain twists feel inevitable, but rather than weakening the novel, it actually aligns with its core premise: Liz is trying to live inside a rom-com, and rom-coms, by nature, follow a formula. By the time the story reaches its resolution, the structure itself becomes part of the message, showing that while the outline of a “perfect” love story may be easy to follow, the most meaningful moments are the unscripted ones in between. 

At its core, “Better Than the Movies” is less about romance and more about the tension between control and authenticity, using Liz’s obsession with rom-coms as a lens to explore how people cope with grief and uncertainty. What initially presents itself as a lighthearted love story gradually reveals a deeper message: the idea that trying to script your life in order to avoid pain often prevents you from fully experiencing it. Liz’s reliance on tropes, playlists, and “perfect moments” is not just a quirky personality trait, but a defense mechanism – one that allows her to hold onto her mother while avoiding the unpredictability of real life. This message strongly resonates with readers. Martinez observed that the novel highlights how “it’s normal to feel grief even if it happened many years ago,” emphasizing that “the feeling never really goes away.” As a reader who has also lost a parent, this message feels especially impactful, because it doesn’t completely reject the magic of romance; instead, it reframes it. Painter suggests that love isn’t found in grand, cinematic gestures or carefully planned meet-cutes, but in the quiet, unpolished moments that don’t fit a script. This is most clearly reflected in the contrast between Michael and Wes, where one represents the idealized version of love Liz thinks she wants, while the other embodies the kind of connection she actually needs. Ultimately, the novel argues that growth comes from letting go of the “perfect story” you’ve written for yourself and learning to embrace the messier, more genuine version of reality – because, as the title suggests, real life, with all its imperfections, can end up being better than the movies. 

Ultimately, Better Than the Movies succeeds not just as a rom-com, but as a story that lingers far beyond its final page. Personally , this was a rare book that completely pulled me in from the very first page; despite having a general sense of how the story would unfold, I still found myself staying up far too late, repeatedly promising myself “just one more chapter.” Martinez shares this feeling and claims that “whenever [she] wasn’t reading it I would be super excited about getting to continue it… [finding] it really hard to put down.” Much of that connection came from how deeply people can relate to Liz – not just from a shared loss, but in the way she romanticizes her life and the way she uses stories and music to make sense of her life. As someone who already has a love for rom-coms, experiencing that same energy in the book felt both comforting and immersive in a way that exceeded my expectations. 

Additionally, Painter’s clear knowledge and appreciation of both music and classic rom-coms adds another layer of authenticity to the novel; the references never feel forced, but instead enhance the story in a way that makes Liz’s perspective feel even more genuine. Painter’s writing manages to make even predictable moments feel engaging, which ultimately has led me to explore more of her works beyond this novel. 

Although I would spend hours recommending this book to anybody who would listen, I would especially recommend this book to readers who enjoy lighthearted romances with emotional depth, as well as anyone who has ever found comfort in movies, music, or stories as a way of understanding their own experiences. It’s also a great choice for people who don’t usually gravitate toward romance, as its humor and authenticity make it feel far more grounded than the typical genre expectations. This wide appeal is reflected in reader responses, with Martinez recommending it to “anyone who wants to get into reading” due to its accessibility, while Crosbie suggests it for “any teenage girl who loves rom-coms or YA romance… even adults as well.”

Ultimately, “Better Than the Movies” reminds readers that real life – messy, unpredictable, and unscripted – can be even better than the stories we try to follow.