Tyler Perry–produced Ruth & Boaz reimagines the biblical romance as a glossy, small-town romance about grief, faith and second chances — a film that knows exactly what audience it’s courting and mostly delivers, even when the storytelling feels safer than it sometimes should. The movie, directed by Alanna Brown and streaming on Netflix starting Sept. 26, centers on Ruth (Serayah), a young musician who flees Atlanta after a personal loss and finds work and unexpected love in rural Tennessee with Boaz (Tyler Lepley), while being taken under the wing of Naomi (Phylicia Rashad).
At its best, the film is warm and inviting: Serayah brings a steadiness to Ruth that makes the character’s quiet resilience feel earned, and Tyler Lepley’s Boaz is an understated counterpoint — grounded, watchable and believable as someone who chose a quieter life for good reasons. Phylicia Rashad adds gravity and grandmotherly authority in a role that anchors the movie’s moral center. The casting is a clear win: the leads have chemistry and the supporting players give the film a lived-in community feel.
Where Ruth & Boaz stumbles is in the screenplay’s reluctance to push beyond familiar beats. The film leans heavily on tidy voiceover narration and a conventional faith-based scaffolding that explains rather than dramatizes emotional turns; several reviewers singled out the narration as clunky and overly didactic, which blunts some of the story’s sharper potential. When the script relies on exposition instead of letting scenes breathe, moments that should land emotionally feel slightly flattened.
Still, the movie knows how to stage sentiment. Visuals of the vineyard, the modest interiors and the warm cinematography help sell the idea of a restorative rural life, while a few musical moments — including an original song performed by Serayah and contributions from Kenneth “Babyface” Edmonds — add texture and a believable link to Ruth’s past as a performer. The production values are tidy and often pretty; the film looks and sounds like a polished Netflix romance.
Tone is the film’s balancing act. This is explicitly a faith-forward retelling: prayer, Scripture and church community are woven through the narrative, which will please audiences seeking a modern, Black retelling of the Ruth and Boaz story. Critics who expect more ambiguity or thematic complexity may find the movie’s moral clarity unsatisfying, but for viewers attuned to inspirational storytelling, those same elements are the point. Guides aimed at parents and faith communities have already flagged it as wholesome overall while noting a few rough edges.
Pacing and structure sometimes work against the film’s emotional momentum. Several sections rush through relationship milestones and character development in service of a tidy runtime, which reduces the sense of stakes for a couple of key decisions. If you come in wanting a deep, slow-burn adaptation of the biblical source, this retelling opts for accessibility over complexity; if you want a comforting, well-acted romance with clear moral throughlines, it will likely hit the mark.
Verdict: Ruth & Boaz is a well-cast, well-intentioned modern retelling that will charm viewers looking for a faith-based love story and a gentle escape. It’s not without flaws — chiefly a script that sometimes explains when it should show — but the performances and production polish make it easy to recommend to fans of romantic dramas and those who appreciate contemporary Biblical adaptations. For moviegoers who prefer harder questions and messier emotion, this might feel too tidy; for many others, it will be exactly the kind of comfort-forward romance they were hoping to find on Netflix.
