NY-LON (C4)

THERE'S something quaintly old-fashioned about this new romantic drama. Perhaps it's the 1960s-pioneered split screen process as the story of a transatlantic love affair unfolds and the fact that its leading man Michael is a city trader seems left off from the days of the yuppie. He even has a surname, Antonioni, recalling one of the greatest directors of the cinema from that period.

Then there's Edie, who works in a record store by day and teaches the poor by night, and is shaping up as one of those free spirits left over from the same era.

Or perhaps it's simply the notion, not exactly the done thing in today's speed-dating, disposable society that two people can meet, be attracted, and move heaven and earth to be together.

Not that we've got that far yet, although Michael declares early in the proceedings that "love is just a chemical that goes off in your brain when you meet someone you like". He and Edie hook up through several of those coincidences that dramatists expect audiences to swallow without complaining. It's the result of a stolen handbag (hers) and a borrowed mobile phone (his).

She's on a trip to London and returning home to New York the following day. He's out drinking and consoling his newly-sacked mate (Navin Chowdhry, Kirk from Teachers).

Eventually she offers, on a "no strings, no sex basis", to buy him a drink with his money (don't ask, it's a long story). They wake up next morning in bed together, but fully clothed. Edie returns home to New York and a dead body in her apartment (another long story to be explored as the series progresses).

Michael can't forget her - there wouldn't be a series otherwise, would there? - and that old chestnut, the earring left in the crumpled bedsheets, gives him an excuse to fly across the Atlantic to reunite her with her jewellery.

"You hate Americans," his friend reminds him.

"Everyone hates Americans. She's from New York. She's almost one of us," reasons Michael.

They've slept together (not fully clothed) by the end of the opening episode and we can look forward to much transatlantic to-ing and fro-ing in coming weeks.

here is a problem. Do they really expect us to sympathise with someone who can afford to hop on a plane to New York like the rest of us take a bus or train? Love on the park and ride I might be able to identify with, but not this.

Stephen Moyer and Rashina Jones make a pleasant enough couple but, so far, I don't feel like hugging them and telling them it'll be all right in the end. The bonuses of sticking with them are the locations, with both London and New York looking fabulous, and an excellent soundtrack.