‘My Oxford Year’ (2025) Netflix Movie Review - An Artificially Sweetened, Unhealthy Drink

Anna De La Vega (Sofia Carson) has her life sorted. She is admitted to Oxford University to study Victorian poetry. She already has a job at Goldman Sachs, where she will work as an analyst after completing her education at Oxford University. So why poetry? Well, she has taken a year off to focus on herself before joining the investment banking company. As a kid, Anna wanted to work in the arts field, but as an adult, she values money. Cash, after all, can take care of everything. By the end of the film, Anna will come to realize that money cannot take care of everything. Some things just cannot be...healed. But before that sobby lesson, Anna will check the boxes off her to-do list (of course, she has a to-do list in her diary) and fall in love with the boy who makes her wet before meeting her officially (he accidentally splashes her with puddle water as he drives by. What were you thinking?). That boy turns out to be Jamie Davenport (Corey Mylchreest) — a man with zero commitments and countless one-night stands. What do you know, he is also revealed to be Anna's teacher, as the original teacher gets promoted and hires this "annoyingly brilliant DPhil student" as her cover! 

As is the tradition in these films, we spend less time inside the classroom and more outside in the pubs, food trucks, parties, annual functions, and the dormitory. However, for a movie that deals with poetry, My Oxford Year is devoid of lyrical dialogue and aesthetic. Place it alongside a masterwork like Paterson, and its verbal and visual flaws tumble out of the bag for all to see. Iain Morris's direction and Allison Burnett and Melissa Osborne's script are quite prosy. The characters recite poems and talk about them like high-school kids who want to pass themselves off as "cool, arty types." It's a miracle that they pass their exams and get an Oxford degree. Maybe Oxford is not that competitive (it's apparently an arena populated by lovers and cupids). The campus, as well as England, makes for a scenic sight, though. The picturesque setting helps us to take My Oxford Year as a travel vlog video when we are turned off by the story, which happens a lot, especially after a major reveal. For 50 minutes or so, everything is serviceable and fluffy. If the movie feels insubstantial, so what? At least, we are not asked to take anything seriously. The unremarkable British-American humor (Anna hears "Haddock" as "A duck") is digestible, and the light tone renders things breezy. 

Then comes a major turning point in the story — and suddenly, we are forced to weep, wail, and cry. I was repulsed by all the mushy feelings because the movie doesn't earn any of it. Rather, it deploys them as a shortcut, as a cheap strategy. In place of meaningful character development, the story offers tired plot points — like a girl giving up her plans to care for a boy whose primary appeal lies in his looks and charming smile. Jamie doesn't have a personality; it's Mylchreest who elevates the character to the level of eye candy. Anna, similarly, is mainly defined by her good looks. It's Carson who imbues her with magnetism and a distinct identity. The actors do more for their blank characters and help us sit through a bland film. But their efforts are limited by a movie that relies on a hollow, overused template, leaving little space for genuine conviction or chemistry. Like Carson's other recent Netflix outing, The Life List, My Oxford Year is more interested in squeezing the tear ducts than charting new, unconventional territories. It's safe — too safe. Relying on trite, outdated tropes and easy, manipulative tricks, it ends up feeling like an artificially sweetened, unhealthy drink.

Final Score- [3.5/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times