Hi everyone, Dave here. I've been away in Turkey for the past week so I haven't really had time to work on this blog, but my friend Dan has kindly offered me a guest blog, about the romantic comedies that have managed to touch his cold, stone heart. I didn't really expect to be doing guest posts so soon but Dan assures me he's happy for me to put it up here. Take it away… Dan!
My friend has a new girlfriend, with whom he has entered into a deal: she will watch three horror movies with him, on condition that he watches three romantic comedies with her in return. Given his abysmal taste in horror films – Paranormal Activity 2, really Mike? – it would seem that she has the better deal, especially given her chosen genre, the rightly maligned RomCom (this is the last time I'm going to use this horrific bastardisation of a word, as it's making my eyes bleed like the closing every scene in Love Actually).
Of course like the presence of Sean Lock or Stephen K. Amos on Live at the Apollo, there are odd exceptions to the plethora of cinematic monstrosities that could well mean that Mike gets the better end of the deal and ends up watching something quite perfect: the Locks to Sex and the City's Michael McIntyre. The following list of ten is by no means definitive – there is nothing predating 1977, and overlooks a wonderful world of European cinema – but here are some shining lights in a world of unwatchable gloom. Starting with…
10. Office Space starring, er, Jennifer Aniston. Don't stop reading just because of this: yes she is a hallmark of shit, straight-to-video cinema, but this early effort alongside Ron Livingstone is an obvious precursor to Ricky Gervais' clinical-yet-warm masterpiece The Office. It's a tale of a romance giving solace and ultimately hope to a man broken by his menial white collar job, a sleazy boss (brilliantly portrayed by Gary Cole) and an eternal struggle against the rise of the machines, personified by a photocopier. It is also one of the few out-and-out comedies on this list, and with it Mike Judge created a template for sombre comedies which would swarm critics' end-of-year lists in the ensuing decade.
9. As Good as it Gets. I could talk at great length about what makes this such a great movie. Greg Kinnear's tender homosexual neighbour and his strange relationship with Cuba Gooding Jr., or Helen Hunt's world-weary waitress struggling to raise an ill son were both outstanding. However both take a back seat to Jack Nicholson's stunning performance as obsessive-compulsive misanthrope Melvin Udall, whose growing obsession with Hunt's character is painful to watch, and it takes all of Nicholson's considerable talent to imbue this thoroughly unpleasant character with a degree of empathy. That he can deliver one of cinema's great romantic monologues and make it seem in keeping with his character embodies the sheer brilliance of both the performance and The Simpsons producer James L. Brooks' screenplay: "I've got this, what – ailment? My doctor, a shrink that I used to go to all the time, he says that in fifty or sixty percent of the cases, a pill really helps. I *hate* pills, very dangerous thing, pills. Hate. I'm using the word "hate" here, about pills. Hate. My compliment is, that night when you came over and told me that you would never… all right, well, you were there, you know what you said. Well, my compliment to you is, the next morning, I started taking the pills… You make me want to be a better man."
8. Sideways is one of the great American movies of the past decade; part buddy movie, part tragedy. Again it sees a man whose life is falling apart seek solace in a romance with a waitress. On this occasion though it is his own flaws and self-doubts that trip him up, and leave us with an unresolved ending. Paul Giamatti captures the spirit, or more accurately the lack thereof, of crushed failed writer Miles with no more than a sad expression in his eyes, and Thomas Hayden-Church is almost as compelling as his self-obsessed buddy Jack on a stag week in the Californian wine country. As well as Miles' brilliantly pathetic wooing of Maya, the film contemplates his love affair with pinot noir and Jack's with no one but himself, a fact to which only he remains oblivious.
7. Withnail & I may not be, strictly speaking, a romantic comedy. Nonetheless, the level of implied and explicit homoeroticism makes it worthy of inclusion here. This being the internet, you don't need me to tell you how funny it is, nor to quote its famous lines at you. However from Uncle Monty's lust for 'I', the eponymous duo jumping into bed together and Richard E. Grant's brilliantly camp performance, to the final scene in which the duo part, there is always the strong implication that whilst these two may not be homosexual, their bond runs deeper than being simply out of work actors living together in squalor.
6. Groundhog Day has been described by many as the perfect movie, and it is hard to find fault with it. Its tale of redemption and self-improvement makes it a surprisingly spiritual film, yet one that can appeal across all faiths and indeed to even the most Nietzschean of us. Bill Murray is, as usual, a monolith of comic acting, and Andi McDowell has never been in anything else better. The impact of the film is also worth noting, with the term Groundhog Day entering everyday lexicon to mean a recurring situation.
5. Up. Again, I'm pushing the limits of what you might consider a romantic comedy, but there is no question that the central character's motives are driven by love for his late wife. It's quite incredible how many consistently great family movies Pixar turns out, but for me Up is, well, up there on account of its brave, heartbreaking opening. With the relationship between Carl and his wife shown only in the opening montage, it's quite an achievement for it to be the emotional centrepiece of the movie.
(Dave: Okay, I have to put my foot down here: Dan, Withnail was stretching it but this is one step too far – Up is NOT a romcom!)
4. Hannah and Her Sisters is the film that Love Actually wishes it could be. With its numerous intertwined plot threads it does well to remain coherent, let alone affecting. Woody Allen is at the top of his game as writer, director and actor here, and provides most of the comic relief in what is one of his more dramatic features. Meanwhile Michael Caine gives a surprisingly tender performance, and I have to admit here to buying the exact same book of E.E. Cummings' poetry for a girl as he does for Barbara Hershey's character Lee. Perhaps the most engaging scene of all is that of the breakup between Hershey's character and that of Swedish screen icon and Ingmar Bergman favourite Max von Sydow: it is Woody's finest dramatic moment among many.
3. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Yes it's a hipster favourite, but no one does surreal quite like screen writer Charlie Kaufmann. Convincing arguments can be made for Lars von Trier or Guillermo del Toro being the contemporary masters of the style, and I'd be hard pressed to argue against David Lynch, but their work always has a disturbing aura that is deliberately lacking from Kaufmann and Michel Gondry's mutual zenith. The film captures the atmosphere of dreams and memories in a way that has never been seen before or since, surpassing even Christopher Nolan's brilliant Inception. Meanwhile Kate Winslett has never been better than here, and Jim Carrey gives a career defining performance as shy geek Joel Parrish. The film raises an interesting and gut-wrenching personal dilemma for anyone who has had a great relationship end badly, as you question whether you would, if you could, erase everything great from your memory just to avoid the pain you imagine might never go away.
2. Lost in Translation was the film that started my love affair with indie music. It also showed how amazing a movie you could make without a hint of a plot or story progression. It's a study in character development as our two leads, played to perfection by Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson, contemplate loneliness and alienation both from the culture they find themselves immersed in and their own respective marriages. Following a hilarious karaoke scene there is a wonderfully tender moment as the two sleep in a taxi back across Tokyo to the sound of My Bloody Valentine's 'Sometimes', Bill puts Scarlett to bed… and leaves. When I first saw this at the cinema I cried my eyes out over the final scene, with its unheard whisper, its glorious closing shot (the whole movie was shot on film rather than digitally, giving it the gorgeous aesthetic it deserves) and The Jesus and Mary Chain playing out in the background.
1. Annie Hall is, for those who know me, an unsurprising and unchallenged winner. My favourite movie of all time is Woody Allen's funniest, and that which resonates the most following a relationship experience that is almost certainly universal and yet feels uniquely personal. Opening with a monologue that includes the quip "I would never want to belong to any club that would have someone like me for a member" to describe his relationship with women, the line is often attributed to Groucho Marx, originally appeared in Freud's "Wit and its Relation to the Unconscious", and is now wholly owned by Woody Allen. It tells the story of a romance between an intellectual and a free spirit we know to be doomed from the start, and the irreversible effect it has on their lives: "don't knock masturbation: it's sex with someone I love" could be the most frank and honest, and yet also the funniest line in screen history. Less of a love story and more a treatise on the nature of love and the human psyche, the underlying message of Annie Hall is cruel and cynical, concluding that relationships are stupid, and irrational and pointless, but then there's a nice analogy for all this: I thought of that old joke, y'know, the, this… this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, "Doc, uh, my brother's crazy; he thinks he's a chicken." And, uh, the doctor says, "Well, why don't you turn him in?" The guy says, "I would, but I need the eggs." Well, I guess that's pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y'know, they're totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and… but, uh, I guess we keep goin' through it because, uh, most of us… need the eggs.
I could have made this entire list of Woody Allen movies, and at uni I was known as Woody for my love of his work and adherence to his approach to cinema and to the human psyche. I guess that I, like the rest of us, need the eggs.
Dan Lucas, DrownedInSound
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