# 300 Letters: A Slow-Burning, Spicy Argentinian “Anti-Romcom”
*300 Letters* doesn’t start cooking right away. The spicy, gay Argentinian “anti-romcom” warms up slowly as writer-director Lucas Santa Ana tees up the film’s intriguing premise, then commits to the generally well-scripted follow-through.
The basic point-and-shoot camerawork, co-written by Gustavo Cabaña, does the script no favors, but the storytelling engages, along with the attractive cast.
It seems the show’s over, though, when Jero (short for Jeronimo) arrives home on their first anniversary to find Tom has left him a dastardly surprise. Two surprises, actually: Tom has vanished completely, leaving Jero behind. And he left a gift box of 300 neatly printed letters explaining his reasons why.
A forlorn Jero, usually hanging around his gorgeous garden pad in his boxer briefs, digs into the box and starts reading for answers. In a venom-dripping voiceover, Tom narrates each missive, as flashbacks deconstruct their not-love story one vicious letter at a time.
Tom’s detailed diary of their relationship opens with his snarky recap of their first meeting—a Grindr hookup on Valentine’s Day. Deeming Jero a “cheesy, childish,” superficial gay based on first impressions, Tom doesn’t appear to change his opinion much during their time together. Apparently, the phenomenal sex is what keeps him hanging on. That, and a selfish urge to flip his bitchy takes on Jero into spoken-word poetry.
Throughout their relationship, Tom uses Jero ruthlessly as fodder for his art—a savage, though obvious, statement about how a poet, filmmaker, or any artist might excavate the lives of their lovers and friends to keep their creative juices flowing.
It is subtly powerful to see letters and poetry wielded as primary weapons. Even in Tom and Jero’s image-conscious, AI-assisted world of TikTok videos and Grindr profiles, a badass poet can still wound with the written word.
Yet, Tom isn’t a one-note villain twirling a poison pen. Frías’ performance is nuanced enough to reveal the self-doubt and insecurity that lead Tom to self-sabotage. He’s also an adept presenter of Tom’s acid-laced poetry. Most importantly, he convinces us Tom would stick around for sex with Mariani’s Jero despite apparently thinking the guy’s a boring himbo.
Carrying more of the screen time, Mariani’s portrayal of Jero is less nuanced and persuasive but exudes an appealing, puppy-dog sense of romance. Jero believes in love like he believes in CrossFit. Tom, on the other hand, scorns romance and commitment almost as much as he looks down on so-called superficial gays like Jero.
Bruno Giganti, star of the flagrantly homoerotic 2022 drama *Horseplay*, is amusing if a bit wooden as Jero’s CrossFit confidant Estéban—the exact sort of vapid gay bro Tom rants about in his poetry.
Meanwhile, Jorge Thefs finds depth in their portrayal of Tom’s gender-nonconforming friend Q, who supports Tom while also calling him out for using art against people.
The film doesn’t romanticize either side. Both parties are provided desirable alternatives—on Grindr and in real life—as the story toggles between past and present, finding its rhythm despite dropping story threads left and right.
The couple’s TikTok fame ultimately isn’t essential to the plot, nor is a supposed mystery surrounding the real-life identity of one of Jero’s faceless online admirers. The mystery disappoints, though not the admirer, who adds another sexy hookup to the film’s depiction of a bustling queer scene in Buenos Aires.
If anything gets a romantic glow-up here, it’s Argentina’s capital city, shown as a perpetually sunny, uncrowded queer metropolis where the next handsome man is always just a swipe away.
https://www.metroweekly.com/2025/11/300letters-review/
