Undue Influence

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at the ‘family vineyard in crisis’ setup—how many times have we heard that? But *Undue Influence* surprised me by making the financial stakes *matter*. Adam isn’t just a romantic lead; he’s a man whose identity is tied to dirt and grapes, and when Daniel (now his landlord) walks back into his life, the conflict isn’t just about old flames. It’s about who gets to decide what the vineyard becomes, and whether Adam can separate his guilt from his pride. Holiday’s writing shines in the way she lets silence do the work: a text left unanswered, a contract slid across a table without a word. The pacing drags slightly in the middle—there’s a stretch where Adam’s internal spiral starts to feel repetitive—but the payoff is worth it when the emotional dam finally breaks. Michael Fell’s performance is what sold me. He doesn’t just *read* Adam; he *is* him—the way his voice tightens when he’s lying, the exhausted rasp when he’s been up all night worrying. His Daniel is equally compelling: polished, but with a thread of something raw beneath. My one critique? The female side characters (Adam’s sister, Daniel’s assistant) sometimes blur together in Fell’s narration, their voices lacking the distinctness of the leads. But that’s a minor quibble in an otherwise stellar production. If you’re tired of romances where the conflict feels manufactured, this one’s for you. It’s got teeth, a setting that breathes, and two men who have to earn their happy ending—not just stumble into it.