February 2010
Editor's Note: Romantic comedy
By Steve Lange
Here’s some advice: Don’t.
Sure, movies (and Roger Ebert) have taught us many lessons that translate directly to everyday life. Teenagers at summer camp, especially if that summer camp was the site of a horrific murder exactly 20 years ago to the day, shouldn’t go skinny dipping at midnight. Robots can’t be trusted. Monkeys will eventually rule the earth and will not only make us their slaves but—SPOILER ALERT!—will also have BURIED THE STATUE OF LIBERTY UP TO HER NECK IN SAND!
But many things depicted in film, unfortunately, do NOT translate to real life. In heavy traffic, for instance, it’s much more difficult to drive a car on two wheels than you’d think. The hero doesn’t always make the game-saving play in the championship game (he may, in fact, drop what his teammates called “a routine fly ball” even though it was deceptively windy that night and the ball had a lot more spin on it than people might realize). And successful grand romantic gestures are pure fiction.
This romance advice is not directed to that teenage geek boy who figures “You know, it sure worked for Anthony Michael Hall in Sixteen Candles. Heck, even that giant mallard got to make out with Lea Thompson in Howard the Duck. If I just do something really dramatic—like streak through the school with her name painted all over me—I’m pretty sure the beauty queen will then go to prom with me.”
No, there’s no helping that kid.
This advice is directed toward the men in long-term relationships who suddenly figure, “What the hell? My wife/girlfriend absolutely loved Notting Hill, 27 Dresses, AND How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days! I happen to think it’s about time I do something like Matthew McConaughey or Hugh Grant or John Cusack or whoever would do to win back Drew Barrymore or Meg Ryan or Goldie Hawn’s actress daughter or whoever.”
“Now I just need to order 100 dozen roses, rent a hot air balloon, and hope that this February cold snap breaks and we get a nice warm rain so at some point I can stand outside our bedroom window without an umbrella singing ‘Unchained Melody.’ Then we can share a soaking wet kiss after I say something like ‘What rain? I don’t even notice it’s raining when you’re with me. Although I am starting to notice the sleet a little bit.’”
It doesn’t, in real life, work that way. Maybe it’s the lack of studio lighting or the lack of pre-scripted dialogue or the fact that A) The woman who jumps into his arms is an actress who is paid to do that, and B) You’re not Matthew McConaughey.
There is a fine line, after all, between an over-the-top romantic gesture and one of those creepy and desperate moves that your wife will be recounting with eye rolls over the next 40 years.
In real life, if—after a fight with my wife—I held a boombox over my head and stood outside our window playing “In Your Eyes,” I’m pretty sure Lindy would run outside to meet me, mostly to shut me up before one of the neighbors called the cops.
And, sure, all the women swooned when they saw Ghost. But I can guess how Lindy would react if, during a night of pottery making, I snuck up from behind her with my shirt off and put my hands over her hands to help seductively shape her spinning clay bowl. She would say something like “What in the hell are you doing? I was trying to make some ‘I’m sorry’ gifts for the neighbors after you woke them all up during your Say Anything Incident. And now everyone in this Community Ed Intro to Pottery class is staring at you!”