Monday 29 June 2009

6 Lessons learned from Romantic comedies (that are utter bullshit)

Romantic Comedies are wonderful. There. I said it. I am a man who actually enjoys romantic comedies. Sometimes I would rather watch a good romantic comedy than a film with explosions and huge fighting robots. But only sometimes.

Still, there seem to be a number of themes that are common in romantic comedies. And whilst I can happily sit through the most recent Michael Bay film with my brain turned off, dribbling whilst hulking extraterrestrial robots kick and punch and transform on screen, when I see certain rather more plausible events unfold in a romantic comedy, I find it difficult not to instantly call “bullshit”.

1: The Lesson: Its perfectly acceptable to leave your husband in order to pursue a lesbian relationship (or a new exciting person of any kind). It will also work out with them and be better for you.

Learned from: Imagine Me and You, The Heartbreak Kid

I didn’t just include the word “Lesbian” in an attempt to maintain the interest of any male readers who turned off after the first mention of a romantic comedy. This film (Imagine Me and You) perfectly exemplifies this particular point- Woman marries man, then decides that the florist at the wedding is far more exciting and goes off with her.

However the principle applies to so many other films- not just those with lesbians. Other popular groups include: Other nationalities (typically if you’re American, a Brit, if you’re British, an American), someone younger, someone older, an old flame who has suddenly changed. Pretty much anyone is more exciting than the spouse in question.

The reasons for this are often shown to be inner turmoil or because the new husband/wife turns out to be a dick/dickette or just boring by comparison to Miguel or Tina or whoever.

What probably would have happened outside of a film script:

After a brief exciting spell with their new lesbian/foreigner/toyboy/pensioner, someone is left feeling unfulfilled and the lustre disappears.

The new pair splits up and wife attempts to go back to husband, who either a) Rejects her, leaving everyone unhappy, or b) Accepts her apology, and the two get back together, with an indelible black mark on her perceived fidelity, neither partner feels particularly happy or comfortable and they live out their lives mired in regret, but putting on a happy face for the rest of the world to see. Probably.

2: The Lesson: If you’re a nice guy with an interest in someone who is unavailable, the person they are currently with will end up being utterly despicable somewhere further down the line.

Learned from: Made Of Honour, Bridget Jones’ Diary

This is one of my favourite things to complain about films. Hollywood typically pulls this character assassination card out of their hat about 20-15 minutes before the credits start rolling. The guy who was good enough for the lead female to start with has suddenly gone from being a kind and considerate person to the kind of person who abuses his spouse either mentally or physically, is overly obsessive, or just flat out cheats (see the first lesson for a classic example of double standards).

My personal favourite use of this is in the film Made of Honour, where the rival turns out to be a bloodthirsty hunt nut with a penchant for singing at the table, throw this in with the daddy issues clearly exhibited by the female lead (a deceased father liking the man we’re supposed to root for) and you’ve got a clear justification (at least in the minds of the writers) for her leaving her fiancĂ©e at the altar.

Obviously its in the interest of the movie makers of a relatively light-hearted genre to ensure that everyone who deserves to he happy is left happy at the conclusion of the film, and films are more comfortable dealing in moral absolutes (films dealing with moral grey areas are often said to be edgy), so in order to do this, any kind of rival has to be instantly branded a complete Neanderthal or some sort of pathetic simpering loser- or a variation of both if they really want to seal up that coffin.

What probably would have happened outside of a film script:

Aside from the fact that the guy she’s currently with isn’t likely to be quite that reprehensible, extreme changes in behaviour tend to be the result of some sort of head trauma, not just ‘getting comfortable’ or whatever bollocks is used to justify this inexplicable behavioural change. People don’t tend to be completely lovely or completely horrible.

Alternatively, if he really is that bad and has been that skilled at acting: Lady finds excuses for the sudden change of behaviour with her new beau and allows it to continue. I’m not a psychologist, but I’m quite certain this how domestic violence starts.

3: The Lesson: Kismet is always on your side

Learned from: Serendipity. It’s in the name (its also a massively guilty pleasure of mine).

It always amazes me in films when people always seem to end up inextricably linked, they eat at the same restaurant only minutes apart, one misses a train the other one is sat on. They are ships passing in the night (technologically retarded ships lacking even the most simple lighting equipment, obviously). It is almost as if some external force is drawing them closer together and their story is being written with a greater plan ahead.

What probably would have happened outside of a film script:

Well, it is true about everything being written with a plan in mind, not by some omnipotent external power, but by a screenwriter. Assuming the character overcomes the odds and actually meets the other ship (although at the point the analogy falls apart as ships ‘meeting’ in the middle of a dark ocean usually results in insurance claims and a great deal of dead sealife), a plethora of things could still go wrong; he may look particularly rough that day, he may fail to make a move of some description, or he even may make some hideous faux pas (not in a pseudo-charming Hugh Grantesque fashion but something utterly moronic and unforgivable) and never get the second chance to woo her because he’s been labelled smug or arrogant. Or a racist.

4: The Lesson: If you want her, you have to catch her…

Learned from: Any film with Hugh Grant in, in fact pretty much any romantic comedy.

My personal favourite clichĂ© to be found within romantic comedies, the chase at the end occasionally arrives shortly after the protagonist’s rival in love has had their formerly kind personality brutally murdered in a back alley in a torrent of threatening behaviour. The guilty party is left realising they’ve made a mistake, almost invariably when the other partner is shortly going to be getting married or boarding a plane to some far off destination, so it’s a race against time to reach them before they board.

And its certainly no Bullit. Usually at some point there will be a) some ‘hilarious’ switching of cars, b) the ‘more hilarious’ use of a bicycle in the event of a traffic jam or c) the use of a skill the lead possesses which has been shoehorned into the plot in a passing reference earlier in the film (sadly my screenplay in which a free-runner falls for a female trial biker has yet to be picked up by a major Hollywood studio).

What probably would have happened outside of a film script:

Rush hour traffic, bad luck with red lights, accidentally leaving your wallet behind and being unable to foot the cab fare, the chain falling off the bike, there are any number of things which could go wrong here. In ‘Love Actually’, where the boy runs through the terminal in order to catch his American sweetheart? I would be unsurprised if he was shot in the spine before he got within shouting distance of the plane.

5: The Lesson: …and come up with some brilliant impromptu speech convincing her to stay or marry you.

Learned from: Seriously, this and the previous point are the bread and butter of romantic comedies.

It never fails to impress me just how loquacious the male lead manages to be at the end of a romantic comedy, despite some pretty crazy chase sequences he nearly always manages to catch the plane just before it leaves, then invariably brings out an amazing speech in which he begs for a second chance or a marriage or something.

This amazing unprepared sermon is usually preached not just to the woman he’s trying to woo (the woo-ee?) but also to a large crowd of stunned onlookers. Despite this, the male protagonist, punchdrunk on love, is compelled to finally open up and say what he’s thinking, in front of all those people.

What probably would have happened outside of a film script:

I know this isn’t quite the same, but I think this video goes some way to explaining why virtually no-one would really want to do this (with added keyboard cat).

and while it can definitely be said that you really like someone if you’re willing to make a complete fool of yourself in front of a large crowd, its not going to be a great deal of fun for the lady, and I can’t help but feel there is a certain amount of emotional blackmail involved in it. Now excuse me while I dismount my soap-box.

Anyway, by the time this chase has ended, there would probably be a couple of minutes during which the man will need to catch his breath, then he would (being a man) proceed to use ineffective and pointless metaphors like a blunt saw at a ballet dance, impressing no-one in the process. Best-case scenario: that woman is getting on the plane. Worst-case scenario: the woman gets on the plane which then later crashes, leaving one of her final images as her life flashes before her being that of a pathetic, crumpled, sweaty man possibly crying on the floor. Perhaps that’s just the way I view the world.

6: The Lesson: Crashing a wedding then attempting to steal the bride whilst the groom stands there is not only reasonable etiquette, but you will nearly always succeed with only the most minor of consequences.

Learned from: Made of Honour, basically every romantic comedy that doesn’t hold the climax in an airport

This still keeps the chase element and typically the speech, but with the addition of having some poor schmuck stood there whilst having his wife chatted up at a particularly inconvenient moment. If he intervenes, then he’s some sort of jealous arsehole, and this only gives his wife-to-be a push in the direction of this suitor. See the video above? Now imagine that the woman is stood at the altar getting married to someone else (who is stood there), in front of her friends and family, and her future in-laws.

What probably would have happened outside of a film script:

A restraining order.