This week, I had the pleasure of attending the Baltimore premiere of a new offbeat romcom, The Baltimorons. The film, entirely set in Baltimore at Christmastime, has had the city buzzing for two years as residents caught glimpses of actor and comedian Michael Strassner, a Baltimore local, and Liz Larsen—known for her role as Jessica Reed on Law & Order, Madoff, and a number of Broadway roles—filming on the streets.
To put it plainly: The film is magic, the kind that can only happen when there’s a deeply honest story being told over a backdrop that also, somehow, manages to tell its own story at the same time. Strassner and Larsen? Epic chemistry. Baltimore? Hardly a third wheel, but a star in its own right.
Much of the plot—a man’s struggle with addiction and wavering mental health—was pulled from Strassner’s own life. The actor co-wrote the film with director Jay Duplass (who got to hear from me, in a possibly slightly intrusive moment on Wednesday, that I am in fact his biggest fan—but that’s neither here nor there).
Strassner has been as vulnerable as his character, Cliff, in interviews leading up to the film’s release, opening up about a past suicide attempt—a moment recreated in the film’s opening scene. Cliff is six months sober when he loses his tooth on Christmas Eve, and ends up spending the entire day with Didi (Larsen), the only dentist who will see him. A series of hilarious and inconvenient happenings result in him taking her to an improv event, where he performs his skit, “The Baltimorons.” It’s not the only time in the film when our city’s endearing (cringe?) accents were showcased.
It’s an offbeat love story, yes. But, at its heart, which it has a ton of, The Baltimorons is about resilience.
With that in mind, while there is so much that is perfect about the film, Baltimore is undeniably the perfect setting for it. In some ways, it almost feels like a love letter to Baltimore—one that was, honestly, overdue. It sets the record straight about who, exactly, we are.
Because, listen: We know what you’ve heard, okay? We know that, if you’ve never lived in Baltimore or spent real time here, you probably get flashbacks from The Wire whenever you hear our city’s name mentioned. But while the 47th president talks about the city’s “crime disaster” (ahem, violent crime is actually way down), the film manages to document the Baltimore that locals know, love, and will gush about whenever we’re given the opportunity (hence, the film—and this piece of writing).
A love letter to the city
The truth? From the charming streets of Hampden, including the magical, over-the-top holiday lights on 34th street—which make an appearance, as does a beloved tabby cat mural—to the Baltimore harbor, as far as good-looking cities go, we’re up there. Like, way up. But don’t listen to me. The movie does a far better job of making the case. In fact, it might just change your mind (if not Trump’s).
Recognizable landmarks are plenty in the film, but one stands out above the rest. What is arguably the most romantic moment in the film happens under the glow of the now-collapsed Key Bridge.
The film’s creators immortalized it (unknowingly at the time), as director Duplass told the crowd after the premiere in a Q&A, ultimately because of Strassner’s insistence.
“He was like, ‘we have to come back here and we have to shoot under this bridge. It’s actually critical,” the director explained. “And we were all exhausted. Half the crew had COVID by that point, but I trusted his instincts . . . The fact that we were able to memorialize that thing in a real, genuine piece of art, it’s just like a dream come true.”
But it’s not just aesthetic beauty that’s notable in Baltimorons. It’s also the spirit of Baltimore, which the characters oozed. Baltimore is the most down-to-earth place you’ve never been. Strassner, who was born and bred here, is a prime example of that unpretentious, salt-of-the-earth vibe.
But Liz Larsen—who was born in Philly, and told the crowd, “I’ve always loved Baltimore”—clearly understood the assignment, too. Her character feels so Baltimore, you could easily imagine she grew up in Dundalk or Highlandtown (and I say that with so much love). In fact, she even made some local pals during filming, embracing that “Hey, hon!” neighborly attitude we pride ourselves on—as well as Berger Cookies, a remarkably simple and unassuming, yet delicious treat that Larsen enjoyed so much, she started giving them out as gifts.
When it comes to the film’s name, I’m struggling not to use the word “perfect” once more. Instead, I’ll say that it’s astoundingly fitting. “Baltimorons” is something we call ourselves here. Because, for starters, it’s way more fun to say than “Baltimoreans.” It also pretty much sums up our self-deprecating vibe. Like Strassner told the crowd this week, “This is who we are”—while acknowledging that if he wasn’t from here, he’d “never name a movie ‘Baltimorons.’”
Either way, as a Baltimoron, I can say one thing is true: We’re in on the joke. We literally all have rat stickers on our bumpers, ‘mmkay? We know what people believe—and we know what’s actually true about our city, with all its kindness, quirkiness, and spirit.
And while the story of Baltimorons is one about the resilience of human beings, as the leads lean into hope and second chances, it’s impossible to miss the resilience of Baltimore, flawlessly captured in a way only locals might’ve seen coming.
