Category: romantic comedies

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pride and prejudice

There’s a never-ending discussion in my family about which adaptation of Pride and Prejudice is the best. Most of my sisters prefer the BBC miniseries led by Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth, with its period-accurate costumes and closer adaptation of Jane Austen’s original novel. But as much as I appreciate that series, my heart has been captured forever by the beauty and joy of the 2005 film. When the soundtrack starts to wash over me as the film opens, I feel somehow like I’m coming home.

As we wander through the Bennets’ house at the beginning of the film, we meet five sisters and their slightly-overwhelmed parents and glimpse the chaos and the joy of their shared life. The Bennet sisters, both in their close bonds and their petty squabbles, remind me so much of me and my own sisters. I can’t help but smile as I watch them. And, though they are trying to navigate a very different society than my own, their struggles are so familiar. They’re looking for love and security, worried about their futures, their reputations, and ultimately their hearts. 

This rendition of the classic story allows the characters at its center to be open with their emotions, less tied to the reticence that would have been expected in their era. As a result, we get to see their confusion and their longing, their hope and their fear, more clearly than in other adaptations. We witness the awkwardness they experience as they try to navigate the etiquette of their complex society with varying levels of success. We cringe with Elizabeth at the self-absorption and naivete of her younger sisters, and we feel foolish with her when she realizes the ways she has judged others incorrectly. We see Darcy’s discomfort and uncertainty, which give those who don’t know him the impression of arrogance. We hope for the best with Jane, and mourn with her when her expectations are dashed. And, of course, we experience Mr. Collins’ complete obliviousness to all social expectations and the general cloud of discomfort that surrounds everyone who interacts with him. We get to enter into these characters’ lives, to experience their emotions along with them, and we care more deeply for them as a result.

Beyond the excellent performances of the cast, which beautifully capture Austen’s iconic characters, the craftsmanship of this film makes all the difference. The cinematography is breathtaking, full of life and color and gorgeous landscapes. The soundtrack matches it for beauty: the piano-led score is one of my favorite musical pieces on earth. And the costumes, while criticized by some of my sisters for being less than period-accurate, play a key role in helping us understand the characters better. To give just one example, we first meet Darcy dressed in stiff, formal, dark clothes. Later, when he meets Elizabeth at Pemberley, he’s wearing a brighter coat with the buttons undone–he’s opening up. And, of course, when he and Elizabeth meet on the moors, he’s lost all the formality, the layers of vests and waistcoats that represented the barrier he’d built, and he approaches her in vulnerable hope.

I could talk about the moments in this film I love for hours–the scene where Darcy and Elizabeth dance and the rest of the world falls away; the sheer panic when Elizabeth realizes that Mr. Collins is about to propose; the delight of watching Mr. Bingley rehearse his proposal with Darcy by the lake…and so many more. But more than anything, I love this story. It’s the story of two people whose lives intersect, and who make snap judgments about each other. Who choose the wrong paths and communicate poorly, so it seems impossible that they could ever find their way to each other. But who are wise and humble enough to reconsider their original perceptions and to realize that the other is worthy of love. It may be set two hundred years ago, but it’s a story that never gets old.

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all time favorites cheesy but i love them reviews romantic comedies

the princess bride

I have trouble grasping the fact that there are people in the world who don’t love The Princess Bride. Even though I nearly have the ninety minutes memorized, I could watch the film any day and be delighted by the humor, the romance, the adventure, and the sheer joy overflowing from this treasure of a story.

At this point, it’s hard to tell whether The Princess Bride was written perfectly for my sense of humor or whether it’s been part of my life for so long that it has molded my taste. Either way, it’s one of the wittiest films I’ve ever seen. Dozens of lines from the film have become iconic for my generation–it’s almost impossible to make it through a wedding weekend without delivering the “mawwage” speech. The dialogue throughout the film is delightfully written and impeccably delivered, especially by Wallace Shawn and Billy Crystal. I know the punch line to every joke but still find them hilarious every time.

The Princess Bride is funny, but it’s also so much more. It’s a romance, with Westley and Buttercup’s love story at its heart. Unlike many modern romantic comedies, the film’s belief in the power and beauty of love is always earnest, never ironic. When Westley declares that even death cannot stop true love, only delay it for a while, we believe him. And as we watch him and Buttercup defeat every obstacle that stands between the two of them and happily ever after, we’re convinced that they’ve got it right. 

While the hopeless romantics among us (me) are enthralled by the love story, The Princess Bride is just as much a swashbuckling adventure as it is “a kissing book.” Inigo Montoya’s quest to avenge his father’s honor is thrilling, and his riveting duel with Westley is one of the best sword fights I’ve ever seen on screen: perfectly choreographed, perfectly scored, and perfectly filled with surprise reveals. Throw in pirates, shrieking eels, cliffs of insanity, giants, poison, fire swamps, and rodents of unusual size, and the story is bursting at the seams with excitement. Plus, the ideas behind some of the slightly-dated effects are genuinely scary. A machine that could suck away years of your life? Absolutely terrifying.

For me, at least, I think the movie owes much of its success to the frame narrative: a grandpa reading a story to his sick grandson. Even the most cynical, uninterested viewer finds their reluctant counterpart in the grumpy child, but they can’t help being entranced along with him. But, more importantly, this frame immediately lets us know what kind of story to expect. The film is a fairy tale, and it never pretends to be anything else. So we aren’t surprised by the elements of fantasy–we know what kind of world we’re entering as the story begins. And, though it may be cheesy and over-the-top at times, it’s a world I love visiting. It’s a world where the heroes overcome every obstacle. Where the villains are defeated. Where true love is not only a reality but an unstoppable force.

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cheesy but i love them reviews romantic comedies

set it up

If you can make it through the baseball scene in Set It Up without smiling, romantic comedies may not be for you. Harper and Charlie get their bosses on the kiss cam at a Yankees game, the second stage in their attempt to push the two into a relationship and get them out of the office more often. Their efforts seem doomed to fail, their bosses uninterested in sharing a first kiss with a stadium of baseball fans. But the camera keeps panning back to them and the crowd gets interested, booing a mild kiss on the cheek and chanting encouragement. And finally it happens, and Harper and Charlie jump up and cheer at the top of their lungs. Everyone else is staring and thinks they’re crazy, but they are so overjoyed by their success that they don’t care.

Zoey Deutch and Glen Powell are a constant delight as they plot together to set up their bosses, as they banter over pizza and science projects, and as they ultimately fall in love. I identify with Harper’s desire to be a writer as well as her paralyzing fear of writing something terrible, so I’m rooting for her success from the start. Add in gorgeous sets and Pete Davidson and Harper’s excellent wardrobe and Creepy Tim, and you get a funny, romantic movie I’ve seen at least four times–and would happily watch again tomorrow.

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la la land

Since the infamous moment when it was wrongly announced as the Best Picture winner, La La Land has largely faded from discussion–except as an overused punch line at award shows. I haven’t been able to shake off the spell of this beautiful movie, though, especially when I recall the first time I got to see it. It was the last showing at a film festival, several months before the film would reach theaters, and I anxiously stood in line and hoped that tickets would still be available. When we finally reached the ticket counter, a couple beside me graciously bought me a pass so I could rush in to claim a seat–a small moment of shared anticipation and generosity I still treasure. In a hotel ballroom masquerading as a makeshift theater, the screen lit up and the surroundings fell away. Even before the first musical number ended, I was sure that I was witnessing magic. I walked out of the screening with tears in my eyes and spent the next months counting down the days till the film’s official release, when I could see it again. I told everyone who would listen that they should see the movie, that it was special. And that December, I sat in a dark theater and fell in love all over again with Damien Chazelle’s glorious film.

Refusing to hide behind ironic appreciation, La La Land immediately draws us in with genuine, earnest excitement about the art some might consider irrelevant. On a concrete Los Angeles overpass, we are quickly inducted into a world full of passionate creators, people who are willing to sit for hours in crazy traffic for one chance to chase their dreams. When shared enthusiasm spills out the doors of a hundred cars, the resulting dance number overflows with joy–and if the movie ended there, it would leave us smiling. Instead, we get to meet Mia and Sebastian. We root for their success almost instantly because, as Mia says, “People love what other people are passionate about,” and each of our heroes has a deep love for the art they’re trying to create. Mia has been telling stories in different ways since she was little, and clearly adores the way words can bring a world to life. Sebastian is stuck playing piano in the background at restaurants and parties, but he’s obsessed with the beauty and legacy of jazz music. And at its core, La La Land is the story of Mia and Sebastian trying to follow their passions and find their own places in history. They stumble past dozens of dead ends on their way to success, but every wrong turn brings them a little closer to their dreams.

And, over time, Mia and Sebastian start to believe in each other and to merge their individual dreams into one bigger vision. They support each other’s pursuits, encouraging their partner to take big, bold leaps instead of hiding behind the fear of failure. So many moments from the beginning of their relationship make me smile: their witty banter at a pool-side party, their first dance in the Hollywood hills, the panicked honk when they start a summer together by driving the wrong direction down a one-way street. Later, they sing “City of Stars” together and something makes them laugh, and the joy in their voices is so real and infectious that it always reaches past the screen to pull me in. It’s such a simple, small moment, but it encapsulates the joy they find together, the ease of their relationship, the way they delight in making music together. They’re happy, and so are we. 

For me, much of this film’s magic lies in this ability to provoke emotion in the audience, to include us in the joys and confusions and laughter and sorrows that the characters on screen experience. With quick pans and spinning cameras and riotous colors at every turn, Chazelle’s cinematography overwhelms our senses. Everything is larger than life: more vibrant, more beautiful, more Hollywood than seems possible. The heightened reality reminds us that this isn’t meant to be a naturalistic depiction of Los Angeles life, so we’re not surprised when characters break out into song or float into space. As it blends the fantastic with the mundane events it depicts, La La Land uses its form to capture emotion perfectly. It lets us experience the magical beginning of a relationship, where pure happiness makes you feel as if you’re dancing among the stars. The music, the color, and the stunning images all combine to create this enthralling emotion that captures us and refuses to let go.

Being under the film’s spell, though, means that we also experience the sadness it presents. I’ll never forget my feelings during the first viewing, when the film cuts to “Five Years Later.” I was so desperately sure that Mia and Sebastian would ride off into the sunset together, and I started weeping during the final “what if?” montage, crying so hard that I could barely see the screen. I clung to that montage, sure it was the real ending and everything else was a dream. But I know I was wrong. The ending isn’t a perfect Hollywood fairy tale, but it’s something more powerful. Though it’s bittersweet and even painful, their final glance reminds us that what Mia and Sebastian had was real and beautiful even though it was temporary. That they loved each other. That they helped each other achieve more than they ever could alone. And that they’ll be a part of each other’s stories forever.

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emma.

As a recovering English major and one of nine sisters who all love to read, Jane Austen’s novels have been part of my life for as long as I can remember. It seems like my sisters revisit the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice every time they have a free afternoon, and we frequently play a game where we must attempt to win by marrying Mr. Darcy. So, while I was prepared to love Autumn de Wilde’s new interpretation of Emma for the sake of its source material, I was delighted to encounter a film that stands firmly on its own merits.

Almost immediately, it’s clear that de Wilde’s vision for Emma. is unique. Rather than the hushed pianos and violins that have graced recent Austen films, the soundtrack here is bold and upbeat. With choral renditions of traditional tunes, the cheerful clamor of the soundtrack acts almost as a Greek chorus, providing narration that reinforces the action and often cuts in to enhance the humor of an awkward interaction. In addition, de Wilde’s previous work as a music video director is evident in the way she choreographs the players on the screen. From the moment when we waltz into the story, the servants surrounding the main characters begin to float through rooms in intricate patterns, gliding past each other as if they’re performing a dance. As if it took place at one of Emma’s balls, the film is obsessed with appearances and style–but it uses those surface-level concerns to remind us that manners shape and define the relationships that make up this polite society.

We first learn about our heroine through those relationships, understanding her through the women revolving around her in Highbury’s shops and sitting rooms. By contrasting her with Harriet, we see that Emma is self-assured, certain of her place in society, at ease in the rituals of tea and balls. In comparison with Jane Fairfax, we see that Emma can feel only moderately accomplished, trapped in a small town by her duty to her hypochondriac father. And, unlike Miss Bates, Emma has such a high regard for the demands of society that she will rarely allow her enthusiasm or her love to break through. In the first scene, we see Emma picking flowers to give to Mrs. Weston on her wedding day–and then the camera zooms out and we realize that she is merely standing at a distance while a servant cuts the blooms she chooses. We’re instantly aware of the way Emma uses polite customs to keep others at a distance, attempting to avoid all acquaintances she deems inconvenient or distasteful.

Emma’s strengths and weaknesses are highlighted by all these women, but we find her ultimate foil in her future partner. While Mr. Knightley knows how to dance and play an instrument and perform every task required of a gentleman, he often puts aside the decorum Emma holds so dear. He follows his own desires, choosing to walk everywhere, to close off the rooms of Donwell Abbey where he’d be expected to entertain, and to freely associate with lower-class members of society. He refuses to let the rules of propriety constrain him, telling Emma what he actually thinks of her choices with an honesty that is easily avoided by others in the name of politeness. Unlike Emma, though, he backs up his manners with eyes for the overlooked, practical help for the less fortunate, and patience and kindness for those who don’t quite fit in. His affection for the people around him, in sharp contrast to Emma’s “love” for Harriet and others, always seeks their best. 

So we rejoice as we watch Emma and Knightley learn to love each other. We celebrate every shared glance, despair at each miscommunication, and swoon over the crucial dance (the only way to discover love in an Austen film). Even before their relationship becomes romantic, Knightley and Emma begin to build each other up, never demeaning or harassing each other as couples around them too often do. Knightley helps Emma look past herself to consider the impact she has on those around her, and she draws him out of his bachelor solitude to engage him in society in new ways. By the time they declare their love, Emma has grown enough that her first thought is of another person’s feelings, not just the happiness she could claim by pursuing what her heart desires. It’s a delight to watch them fall in love and find each other worthy of that love.

And suddenly we’re back where we began, attending a wedding once again. In a film so focused on meaningless rituals, it’s beautiful to see it end with a deeply significant tradition that unites instead of dividing, making two people one instead of setting up social barriers. No matter their class status, every character in the film comes together for this wedding. And we rejoice with the citizens of Highbury and the happy couple, trusting that they will continue to learn and grow and lean on each other to overcome whatever difficulties they encounter. Though it is filled with frivolity, with silk and dances and screens to protect Mr. Woodhouse from the fire, the film concludes with a genuine moment of love and joy–as every Austen adaptation should.