My Fault: London : A Classic BookTok Fantasy

If you spend enough time on BookTok, you start to recognize the pattern. There’s always that one romance novel—dramatic, over-the-top, dripping with forbidden tension—that dominates your feed. And when those stories get turned into movies? Chaos. Enter My Fault: London (2025), the English-language remake of Culpa Mía (2023), a Spanish film that absolutely wrecked Prime Video’s viewership records. Now, it’s getting a fresh coat of paint and a new accent, but let’s be real: it’s still the same BookTok fantasy wrapped in a slightly different package.

So, what’s the deal?

Well, My Fault: London is everything BookTok loves—whether it admits it or not. Enemies-to-lovers? Check. Forbidden romance? You got it. Intense back-and-forth tension where they almost kiss but don’t because of REASONS? Obviously. This movie plays out like a greatest-hits album of TikTok’s favorite tropes, and that’s exactly why it works. Love it, hate it, or pretend to hate it while secretly watching it alone at 2 AM, this formula gets people.

Like most adaptations of these viral romance novels, the movie is basically a speed run of melodrama. The plot doesn’t just move; it sprints. One minute, you’re locked into the step-sibling forbidden love angle, the next, BAM—someone’s being stalked, there’s family trauma, a street racing scene explodes out of nowhere, and suddenly, you need a moment to process everything that just happened. The pacing is less “slow-burn romance” and more “you blink, you miss an entire subplot.”

It’s almost comical how much My Fault: London tries to juggle at once. It’s like the director sat down and thought, What if we did everything? The result is a movie that never lets you breathe. If you pause to check your phone for a second, you might come back to a completely different conflict unfolding. In that sense, it’s the perfect BookTok movie—short attention spans, constant drama, and enough tension to make you yell at the screen.

The step-sibling trope is peak guilty-pleasure territory, the kind of thing people pretend to side-eye while secretly devouring every second of it. And My Fault: London leans hard into that tension. It’s all stolen glances, charged silences, and just enough almost-but-not-quite moments to keep you hooked. It’s predictable, but predictability is kind of the point. No one watches these movies expecting a groundbreaking love story. They watch for the chemistry, the drama, and the chance to indulge in something a little bit ridiculous.

Of course, being a remake, My Fault: London invites the inevitable comparison to Culpa Mía. The original had that distinct Spanish energy—passionate, raw, unfiltered. The English version? It feels like it’s been polished a little too much, trying to capture that same fire but losing some of its edge in the process. The actors have chemistry, sure, but there’s something about the original that felt messier, more real, even when it was ridiculous.

My Fault: London is exactly what it promises to be: a turbocharged, trope-filled romance that doesn’t care whether you roll your eyes or swoon—it just wants you to watch. And let’s be honest, you probably will. Because no matter how predictable these movies are, they tap into something undeniably entertaining. So, will it win Oscars? No. Will it dominate BookTok discourse for months? Absolutely. And really, isn’t that what matters?