When I first saw the trailer for Two Tickets to Greece I thought it was most likely another bland relationship comedy that had all been done before. But I was pleasantly surprised. Upon viewing it, I was transported to the picturesque island life and embraced by the sun-kissed splendour of Greece. To make a good story, though, we obviously require more than that. And there is more.

In addition to the beauty, Two Tickets gives us two characters with depth. The film's premise is not entirely original, but as it explores the complicated friendship of two friends who had previously grown apart, we are captivated by their journey to accept each other's frailties, and it is all done with humour and empathy.

Two Tickets tackles two universal themes: loss and forgiveness. We can all relate to Blandine and Magalie's emotional journeys because of the honesty and tenderness with which these themes are shown. The lead actresses delivered wonderful performances, giving depth and charm to their roles while expressing the inner turmoil and outer humour of their characters.

There are some pacing issues when the plot meanders and loses momentum in some of its slower moments. If these had been slightly tightened, the story would have been more engaging. With few surprises in terms of major plot developments, the overall storyline is quite familiar. There could have been more development for the characters of the endearing supporting cast. Despite touching on some weighty social issues, the film stops short of providing more biting cultural or social critique.

With its charming and aesthetically beautiful journey, a mix of humour and emotion, and overall relatability, Two Tickets to Greece is a charming work of escapism that may subtly encourage contemplation of re-discovering one's sisterhood (and maybe even brotherhood, for men) and oneself. I thought it was a good movie overall and would suggest it to anyone who enjoys comedies about family, self-discovery, and getting over adversity.

I kept watching, out of respect and simple curiosity, way too embarrassed by the lame dialogues, but hoping they might get better. Most acting was done right... but then, a few minutes into the second hour of testing my patience watching, the octopus scene made it unbearable. Why did Kristin Scott Thomas have to enjoy smashing that poor creature against the wall? What purpose did it serve to the script? Shame on anyone who encouraged or agreed to it.

Or is it a metaphor for the fact that intelligent people (symbolised by the octopus) would have their brains totally inside out after watching this film? Seriously, why was that scene even allowed in the first place? Unacceptable.