There are lots of lovely Christmas romances on film, including The Shop Around the Corner, Love Actually, and While You Were Sleeping; many other holiday classics include secondary romance plots (It’s a Wonderful Life, Meet Me in St. Louis, Miracle on 34th Street, The Bishop’s Wife). Today’s very special Christmas Eve edition of A Fine Romance Friday is going another direction, however, a more Hepburn and Tracy direction, specifically to Walter Lang’s underrated 1957 film Desk Set.

Desk Set takes place in a totally fantasy world in which Hepburn’s television studio research library is being threatened by a new fangled invention, Tracy’s brand new computer. See, something like that would never happen in real life. Anyhow, Hepburn and Tracy play refreshingly middle-aged, smart, career-driven people who banter and bicker, reveal vulnerabilities and attractions, all while navigating a changing world.

Hepburn has gone about as far as a woman of her time could go, which is to the head of  small department with no further promotions in sight, and into the arms of a long-term boyfriend, a sniveling mid-level executive who doesn’t intend to propose and isn’t half-worthy of her. She’s a woman in need of the feminist revolution. Tracy, who has been so wrapped up in his work that he’s neglected to develop any social skills, bruises his way in, neglecting to be honest about the corporate changes at the studio and his technological innovation and setting up the Big Misunderstandings of the third act.

And it does feel like an act. The material’s stage roots are evident, Tracy isn’t half as convincing as an engineer as Hepburn is as librarian, and the computer, when it arrives, is amusing as hell. But Hepburn and Tracy are always magic together on screen and the two big holiday set pieces–one involving a sort of clown car on Thanksgiving and the other a wild office Christmas party–are worth the price of admission. Behold a marvelously drunk Hepburn and be grateful.

So among my many Christmas comfort viewings, I make room for Desk Set.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Like any good American on the day after Thanksgiving, I’m in a bit of a food coma. Not a tryptophan coma–I don’t like and therefore never make turkey; yes, I know, I should revisit that “good American” thing–but a definite one-too-many-helpings-of-pumpkin-pie, why-yes-one-more-roll-would-be-lovely haze. So today’s selection has to be food-related. And my favorite food-related romance is Wong Kar-Wai’s Chungking Express.

We’ve already talked about In the Mood for Love, which is a stunning film, though ultimately not a genre romance. Chungking Express is, however. It’s upbeat, charming, and very very romantic. It’s a perfect post-Thanksgiving fine romance.

It tells two love stories about heart-broken cops in mid-90s Hong Kong. In the first (which is a fairly brief amuse-bouche), a nameless cop waits a month to move on after his girlfriend breaks up with him, meting out a piece of pineapple every day as he works through his grief and memories. When the month is up, he meets a mysterious drug smuggler and invites her up to his room. Things don’t go as planned. In the second story, a young woman working at a fast food noodle place is in love with a cop she serves everyday. He’s too busy nursing a broken heart to notice. Until he does. The end.

Let’s count what’s good here. 1) Tony Leung. Basically, I think he’s incredibly sexy and I’d watch him read the phone book. With subtitles. 2) Michael Galasso’s music, both the original score and the soundtrack choices. This film has the best cinematic use of The Mamas and the Papas’ “California Dreamin'” ever. 3) Christopher Doyle’s cinematography. Doyle and Wong Kar-Wai have a long history of working together, including on In the Mood for Love. But while the cinematography of ITMFL calls attention to itself, almost takes over the film, here it’s invisible and innovative until it does something so casually brilliant that it changes how you understand the profilmic events. Here’s a thoughtful analysis of a 22-second shot from the film that encapsulates the longing in the second story perfectly. 4) The use of classic cinema and longing. In my haze, I’m not going to be able to say this as well as I’d like, but the film uses filmic nostalgia as a stand-in for nostalgia for the past. In the context of the two stories (not to mention the film’s visual coding), it’s a perfect metaphor.

This all makes it sound very pretentious and it’s not. Chungking Express is delightful. If you haven’t seen any Wong Kar-Wai, it’s the perfect place to start. I’ll be watching it with dim sum tonight!

Ten years ago Love, Actually released. I was reminded of this yesterday when I read this article about what we’ve learned from it.

This makes me feel old. I was in college at the time and I saw it in theaters, though fairly late in the game because I’m really distrustful of movies with too many major stars and in 2003, it would have been difficult to cram more famous British actors into a single film than Love, Actually did. (Remember, most of the Harry Potter films hadn’t released yet.) I only relented when everyone I knew saw it and insisted it was terrific.

In the intervening decade, Love, Actually has entered the canon not just of romantic comedies, but also of holiday movies. It’s a staple on American TV in November and December. It’s the kind movie I can use as an example in class with confidence that most of my students will have seen it. It’s also this week’s fine romance selection–the first one since August!

Above the fold, I’m going to do a typical fine romance Friday rah-rah-rah post. But I have really complicated feelings about the movie, so if you want to see my spoiler-y, critical commentary, follow me below the fold.

Love, Actually is definitely one of the best romantic comedies of the last twenty years. It’s set in contemporary London and concerns inter-connected characters and stories playing out over the six weeks leading up to Christmas. There are happy stories and sad stories. New love and old love. Romantic love, platonic love, and familial love. It’s sweet and charming and delightful.

Though the background is Christmas-y, it’s a largely secular film and one that’s designed to make you feel good without feeling used. (Though after I took the narrative apart as I’ll demonstrate below, I did feel a bit manipulated.)

I’ll be watching it tonight with something red and festive and trying to find some holiday spirit.

Continue reading “A Fine Romance Friday: Love, Actually” →

For the end of summer, today’s fine romance is the best teen romance ever: Cameron Crowe’s 1989 masterpiece Say Anything. It’s another film I can’t be rational about, perhaps because of its resemblance to my own love story; however, on frequent repeat viewings, it holds up remarkably well. I find it every bit as honest and sweet as it more lauded contemporaries by John Hughes and it features the best teen party scene ever. Plus, there is the beta hero glory of John Cusack — but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

Opening on the day of graduation, Cusack (here, the “basic” underachiever Lloyd Dobler) decides that it’s finally time to approach Ione Skye, playing Diane Court, the smart but shy girl he’s been pining after for years. He invites her to the aforementioned party and for reasons that aren’t clear to her she says yes. They start dating, her family issues unwind, he stands by her, they face complications, they overcome them, and that’s pretty much it.

If you love Say Anything, it’s not for the machinations of the plot, which are few. It’s for the hilarious but realistic dialogue, the brilliant secondary characters played by Joan Cusack, Lili Taylor, and Jeremy Piven, and the music, notably Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes.”

So grab your boombox and revisit the 80s tonight with Say Anything.

First, a short digression. When I was in labor, my husband read to me and what would do for such a moment? Only the most distractingly beautiful words set down in English of course: “The Eve of St. Agnes” by John Keats. In fact I very nearly named my daughter Madeline (though didn’t).

Today’s selection is Jane Campion’s Bright Star (2009), which features Ben Whishaw as Keats and Abbie Cornish as Fanny Brawne, the woman he loved. If you know anything about Keats, it is probably his premature death at age 24, so I think it spoils nothing to say that the film isn’t a romance in the happily ever after sense, but it is deeply romantic and astonishingly lovely.

The film opens in 1818. Keats has left medicine to pursue poetry and it’s going, in a word, badly. The critical response is mixed (ever heard of the Cockney School?) and he’s watched family members die from consumption and senses the disease stalking him. Then he meets Fanny Brawne. They fall in love and enter into a secret engagement lasting until his death in 1821.

Early biographies of Keats often point out that Brawne wasn’t beautiful and harp on their correspondence, arguing that she isn’t brilliant and accusing her of being inconstant. Campion is engaged in a feminist reclamation, arguing that Keats was the jealous, insecure one and that Brawne loved him deeply.

While this is important to know, you could go into the film thinking it entirely fictional and still come away with the same emotional impact. The score, the costumes, the performances, the muted, autumnal tones of the cinematography: every detail contributes to a powerful movie that’s at once elegiac and ravishing.

I’m not sure why it didn’t get more awards consideration, except that it was released in the same year as The Young Victoria, and evidently we can only handle one romance at a time. For me, however, it’ll be Bright Star tonight.

Today just hasn’t gone the way I thought it was going to, hence the tardiness and brevity of this post. While I go get a tasty adult beverage and attempt to recover, I leave you with today’s fine romance, Paperman, a Disney short film that won the Academy Award for Best Animated Short in 2012.

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xx5d23_paperman-full-animated-short-film-vo-hd_shortfilms

I feel better already.

Do you have movies (or books or songs or whatnot) which, for whatever weird reason, you’ve seen a numerous times? Not out of a belief that they are superlative, though they might be, not because you’ve sought them out for repeated viewings, but through happenstance?

During my first year of college, I watched the 2000 romantic comedy Keeping the Faith — directed by and starring Edward Norton and featuring Ben Stiller and Jenna Elfman — about twenty-five times. It’s one of those cultural artifacts that immediately evokes a time and place for me. It ceased to be a film; it was instead a wormhole.

Recently, I caught a few minutes of it on television and in a new context, it was defamiliarized. I realized that Keeping the Faith was actually a very charming and successful rom-com, and thus it’s this week’s selection.

Norton and Stiller are childhood best friends who, stop me if you’ve heard this one, grow up to become a priest and a rabbi. They’re leading their congregations and dealing with structural conservatism against the changes they want to implement. In Stiller’s case, he’s also weathering pressure to get married. Enter Elfman — the third member of their trio — who’s grown up, become a high-powered business woman, and turned beautiful. A love triangle ensues.

What makes the film better than the average rom-com of the period is, first, it’s warmth and gentleness and, second, the extent to which it represents its characters inner lives. Elfman’s non-Jewishness is a big deal for Stiller; Norton undergoes a crisis of faith based on his attraction: this is not the stuff of the average Hollywood movie. While I wouldn’t say it’s serious by any stretch of the imagination, the characters are far more three-dimensional than is generally the case.

Now some of the humor comes from cultural and religious stereotypes, which occasionally grate, but any time the film is dealing with the genuine friendship and affection between the trio, it’s on solid ground. While I knew that Norton could be a great actor, the film also proved to me that Stiller and Elfman can give good performances with the right material. I am particularly annoyed on Elfman’s behalf that she never managed much of anything post-Dharma & Greg. (Oh, 90s pop culture.)

For me, it’s New York-style pizza and Keeping the Faith tonight.

Shakespeare is in the air this week. Everything I’ve read lately seems to allude to the Bard. Plus, it’s the height the Shakespeare summer stock season, that moment when for some reason everyone is willing to watch Renaissance drama and comedy. (If this disturbs you, don’t worry, it ends by Labor Day.)

I considered going with a straight Shakespeare adaptation, but my favorite “this is Shakespeare, isn’t it?” romance is The Philadelphia Story, which is this week’s selection. Yes, you read that right: George Cukor’s 1940 romantic comedy starring Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn, and Jimmy Stewart is really Shakespeare. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, to be precise.

Hear me out.

The basic premise of the film is that tabloid reporter Stewart crashes Hepburn’s fancy Philadelphia society wedding with the help of Grant. Grant is Hepburn’s ex and he’s trying to help her (sort of); mainly, he’s trying to win her back.

Hepburn and Grant are Titania and Oberon — the estranged fairy king and queen — but also one of the sets of lovers; Stewart and Ruth Hussey (who plays the Girl Friday photographer) are the other set of lovers; Hepburn’s kooky family are the fools; and alcohol is the magic. If you don’t believe me, check out the fourth chapter of Stanley Cavell’s classic Pursuits of Happiness for a fuller examination of the connections between the play and the film.

Even without the link to Shakespeare, there’s so much here that’s good. The Philadelphia Story has an astonishingly literate, intelligent screenplay, the central trio of actors are magic together, and the costumes are divine. It’s a film for grown ups and they just don’t make those all that often anymore.

I particularly love the difference between how Grant and the up-and-coming capitalist Hepburn is supposed to marry respond to her sexuality. The two performances of the line, “A wife should behave herself naturally” communicate volumes about the relationship between men and women. It’s an anti-slut shaming film and a surprisingly progressive one given when it was written and filmed. Smart and delightful, if you haven’t seen it before you should watch The Philadelphia Story immediately.

I’ve got it cued up in the DVD player and some champagne on ice. Naturally.

We’ve had a string of older films — which is great — but today, I think we need something contemporary. With that in mind, Friday’s fine romance selection is Once, the 2006  indie about Dublin musicians directed by John Carney and starring Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova.

In the interest of full disclosure, I’ll warn you from the start that I simply can’t evaluate this film rationally. I love Ireland. I’ve been twice and would happily move there if it were an option. (Note to self: find job in Ireland.) I love Irish literature, I love Irish music, I love the way the rain in County Kerry tastes different from rain anywhere else on earth. I’ll even take Irish food if I get to eat it in Ireland. See: not rational.

I also went into Once a fan of Hansard’s music with The Frames, though I hadn’t heard any of his work with Irglova, a collaboration they call The Swell Season. (Hansard is really polarizing. My friends who are into Irish music much more so than me use him as a litmus test to figure out people’s taste.)

The story is easy enough: Hansard is a busker on Dublin’s streets. His dreams of making it big have been forestalled by helping with his aging father’s vacuum  repair business and by a woman who broke his heart and left him for London and another man. Irglova is a Czech immigrant who starts chatting and then playing music with him.

While the title (with it’s promise of “once upon a time”) might sound like it’s setting up something pretentious and grandiose, it’s difficult for me to think of a more direct, less fussy romance. It’s an organic thing — complicated by the fact that Hansard and Irglova are not actors and did in fact have an affair around the time the movie was shot.

But getting into what’s real and what’s not distracts from what’s amazing about Once: the music. There’s a reason it’s since been adapted for the Broadway stage. Irglova pacing through a Dublin night singing “If You Want Me” is a great tense moment that communicates so much about character and place, a successful fusion of music, lyrics, performance, and cinematic-ness. I write with The Swell Season playing in the background all the time. It’s smart, emotional, beautiful music.

See, I’m absolutely not rational. But that’s precisely why Once works, because it’s so damn evocative. Tonight, I commend Once to you, with or without the soda bread and Guinness.

It’s just another soggy Friday where I’m at, which requires something warm, tropical, and hilarious as a remedy. So today’s choice for a fine romance is Robert Zemeckis’ 1984 action-adventure-comedy-romance Romancing the Stone, starring Kathleen Turner and Michael Douglas.

Turner is a mousy, repressed, boring romance novelist, writing about things that’s she’s never experienced. (As we romance novelists do.) She receives word that her sister was kidnapped in South America and rushes to rescue her, only to end up lost in the Columbian jungle, where she meets Douglas. For a price, he agrees to help. What ensues is a grab-bag of action and romance cliches, somehow made fresh because everyone seems to be having so much fun.

I think it’s the fun that missing from contemporary romances. I guess because there’s so much capital tied up in making a movie today everyone is so serious. Romancing the Stone is winking at you — sometimes literally in the guise of Douglas’ joyous performance — and laughing with you.

If the rain keeps up, I’ll be able to reenact the mud slide scene in my backyard, hopefully with something rummy, and suggest you do the same. (Only perhaps minus the mud.)