Frank Capra might have unknowingly set the template for romantic road movies when he sent Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable on a bus ride in It Happened One Night (1934). Ever since, cinema has been enamored with the idea of two unlikely strangers thrown together by fate, forced to navigate each other as much as the journey ahead. From the French New Wave’s breezy existential musings to the sappy Korean dramas, the trope has been reinvented, refined, and—sometimes—overplayed.
But when a film gets it right, when it sidesteps cliché for genuine intimacy, it reminds us why we keep coming back to these stories. Adam Leon’s Tramps (2016) is one such reminder. It’s a romance, but not in the way Hollywood so often packages it.
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A Heist, a Road Trip, and a Growing Chemistry
Tramps starts with a simple, low-stakes crime: Danny (Callum Turner) is recruited by his older brother—who’s currently locked up—to pull off a briefcase swap for some quick cash. Ellie (Grace Van Patten) is just the getaway driver, a job she takes without much care for the details. But a case of mistaken identity turns their easy payday into a makeshift road trip. One lost briefcase, one stranger’s address, and suddenly, two people who were supposed to part ways are forced to work together.
Danny lives in a cramped Queens apartment, sharing space with his Polish mother and running an illegal gambling racket. He works in a small Italian restaurant, but aspires to become a chef. Ellie’s past is more of a mystery—a tough-looking girl who clearly needs this job but isn’t interested in discussing why. They are two people trapped, not just in the logistics of a botched job, but in the limitations of their own lives.
What follows isn’t the whirlwind passion of a typical rom-com, nor is it an indulgent indie meditation on existential longing. Instead, Leon crafts a film that thrives in the quiet spaces between plot points—in the nervous glances, the unspoken hesitations, the reluctant warmth growing between them. There is no grand declaration of love, no dramatic crescendo—just two people who understand each other in ways they never intended to.
Subtle, Observational, and Rooted in Place
If Tramps has a distinct energy, it comes from Leon’s refusal to over-explain, over-embellish, or over-sentimentalize. Instead of sweeping travel montages and overproduced meet-cutes, the film moves with its characters, letting them navigate their world as organically as possible. Much like the works of Eric Rohmer or Richard Linklater, this is a film about movement—physical and emotional.
Cinematographer Ashley Connor frames New York with a vibrant, lived-in authenticity. The characters’ movement through subways, apartments, and unfamiliar neighborhoods isn’t just about geography—it reflects their internal shifts, their quiet yearning for escape, for change. The streets of Queens and upstate New York don’t just serve as locations but as silent witnesses to their slow-blooming connection.
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Performances That Do More with Less
Much of Tramps’ success hinges on the performances of Callum Turner and Grace Van Patten. They bring an effortless charm to characters who could have easily been written into predictable archetypes. Turner’s Danny is a dreamer without direction, his charm wrapped in uncertainty, while Van Patten’s Ellie balances toughness with vulnerability, resisting easy definition.
Their chemistry isn’t scripted in quippy banter or grand romantic gestures—it’s in small, unspoken moments. A glance that lingers too long, a slight smile after an awkward silence.
At just 83 minutes, Tramps is a refreshingly uncluttered, understated, and genuinely delightful film. Adam Leon and co-writer Jamund Washington take a worn-out formula and breathe new life into it. Leon’s brilliant debut feature, Gimme The Loot (2012) punctuated the main action with small emotional interludes. Tramps builds on that same sensibility.
This isn’t a love story in the traditional sense—it’s about two people in motion, figuring things out, stepping into something new, however uncertain. It doesn’t promise forever, and that’s precisely what makes it feel real.
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Where to Watch: Netflix
Rating: 3.5/5
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