We all like to treat ourselves to a sugary helping of Hollywood romance every once in a while. And every once in a while, we’ll discover an unexpected, unconventional treat – be it a love story laced with a bit of Black Mirror sci-fi, a la Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, a trilogy of Before films that focus on dialogue rather than spectacle, or a whimsical musical of 80’s revivals – like Moulin Rouge.
Sadly, most other times, we’ll find ourselves watching yet another slapdash mish-mash of tried and tired lines, cheesy acting, and a cookie-cutter storyline played out to Miley Cyrus’ best hits.
And sadly enough, this surprises no one these days. It seems like the film genre of romance – particularly romantic comedies – has comfortably embraced this mediocrity, and thus, most of us have just grown to expect it. It’s kind of like the effect with modern horror films; we expect three out of four of them to suck.
While there are plenty of reasons as to why rom-coms have been tanking in recent years (as detailed in this brilliantly-written article by The Atlantic), I simply want to state that at the core of all the disappointing crap this genre has managed to churn out - it’s simply stale, lazy writing and over-worn formulas that lead to the synchronised eye-rolling these audiences often experience.
There are plenty of clichés milked to death among these films, but these four are by far the most irksome, and don’t do the category any favours.
(Of course, this is all based on my subjective take on things – so take my opinions with a grain of salt).
STOP THE PLANE!
How many times are we going to watch some inconsiderate schmuck race through an airport terminal after getting off a plane AT THE LAST MINUTE or save their confession for someone until THE LAST MINUTE before said person is literally about to leave the country?
I’m talking scenes like Ashton Kutcher in Valentine’s Day – who slams a trash can on the desk of the check-in counter, declares to an exasperated group of staff that Jennifer Garner is like the sun that lights up his life (or some shit), and leaves his shoes at security to run barefoot over to her just as she’s getting on the plane.
Jennifer Garner as Julia Fitzpatrick in Valentines Day, 2010. Warner Bros. Pictures. Her look says it all.
And in Garden State, where Zach Braff gets off the plane at the last minute for manic-pixie-dream-girl Natalie Portman – a seemingly unstable young lady whom he quickly develops an infatuation for. (I admit I loved the rest of the movie, but even Zach’s character found himself dumbfounded, having pretty much wasted a plane ticket and was stuck in New Jersey.)
Back in the day, these scenes may have genuinely provoked heartfelt, romantic emotions among audiences; but it’s unfortunately a now all-too overused trope that have us imagining just how such acts would play out in the real world.
You’d probably run into a frail old lady or two just inching their way to the boarding gates, have obscene insults thrown at you by burly businessmen, and ultimately – receive a merely annoyed (and pitiful) response from the object of your affections.
Oh, and you’d likely get tased. So if lying in your own pool of pee doesn’t sound the slightest bit romantic, probably best to avoid doing this.
Lose the Glasses, Girls
We’ve all seen this scene play out before: nerdy, innocent, possible artsy-fartsy-hipster girl is knocked about and ignored by all the “popular” dudes, but the joke’s on them. ‘Cause once the geeky girl takes off the specs, these very same guys are suddenly trailing her like lost puppies.
It’s the whole Clark Kent effect, except these girls aren’t hiding a secret identity, because – shocker! – they are the exact same person with the glasses off as they were with them on. No superhuman persona under those specs. Just that same exact person you made fun of for playing Mario Kart on Friday nights.
But of course, in the world of fictional on-screen romances, this isn’t the case. The guy who ignored her is suddenly drawn like a freaking moth to a flame. And it doesn’t just end with the glasses, either. It could be a total style makeover – irregardless of whether this actually fits her already-established character – saving our heroine from those drabby “good-girl” get-up to more skin-tight MTV outfits and Debbie Harry’s makeup.
Olivia Newton-John as Sandra Dee from Grease, 1978. Paramount Pictures.
Let’s get real here. Are we really meant to believe this numbskull’s suddenly discovered the true value of her character based off the lack of facial accessories and clothes straight out of Teen Vogue?
This concept was picked apart and criticized by American writer and professor, Isaac Asimov, in his essay titled “The Cult of Ignorance” – a piece that addressed the myriad of issues that often make up Hollywood’s absurdities.
He refers to the “nerdy girl” archetype as a persona by the name of “Laura Lovely”, a “superbly beautiful actress” who is meant to play an “ugly” character – signified, of course, through her large-rimmed specs.
He goes on to explain that at some point in a typical, shallow romance film, “Laura Lovely” removes her glasses, can suddenly see things in 20/20, and the male hero excitedly falls in a passionate love for her and they kiss in the rain and everyone around them does a slow clap.
“Is there a person alive so obtuse as to not see that (a) the presence of glasses in no way ruined Laura’s looks and that our hero must be completely aware of that, and (b) that if Laura were wearing glasses for any sensible reason, removing them would cause her to kiss the wrong male since she probably would be unable to tell one face from another without them?” Asimov writes.
This particular text was published back in 1956. The guy knew what was up.
And again, this trope isn’t exclusive to ditching the frames – movies tend to go all-out with that upbeat, jump-cut edited montage of the heroine undergoing a total hair, fashion, and eyebrow transformation. Think Allison Reynolds from The Breakfast Club or Laney Boggs from She’s All That. Both were given that sweet and satisfying makeover to get the seemingly unattainable male lead.
And when they inevitably do, as these movies would have it, that guy’s going to have have a rude awakening in the realisation that, hey – those new heels and $40 haircut don’t actually make her any different from the girl he used to pick on.
But of course, that wouldn’t add to the romance.
The Damaged Loser and the MPDG
The concept of the “damaged loser” or Manic Pixie Dream Girl (typically referred to by their acronoym, MPDGs) are oftentimes the seemingly “mysterious”, easygoing, and – mainly in the case of damaged losers – often outcasted-but-that’s-okay-we’re-too-cool-for-mainstream-society -anyway romantic interest of the romcom lead.
A notable difference between the two is that MPDG’s are usually bubbly and starry-eyed; oftentimes a stark contrast to a typically morose and, let’s fact it – boring male hero.
Damaged losers, on the other hand, ironically tend to think they’re above everyone else. Ethan Hawke’s Troy from the Ben Stiller-directed 90’s film, Reality Bites, is a shining example of this. He plays your typical brooding, bad-boy rock musician who carries about this air of intellectual superiority – or so he’d like himself to have. A snob of all things societally typical – like a boring 9-5 job or personal hygiene – and an all-around asshole, most of us with our heads levelled with reality could never imagine such a guy as the “hero” that eventually gets the girl.
Master of douchebaggery. Ethan Hawke as Troy Dyer from Reality Bites, 1994. Universal Pictures.
But he does. After countless scenes of him degrading Winona Ryder and struggling to have conversations devoid of obnoxious sarcasm, they end up together in an incredibly underwhelming finale. I still can’t, for the life of me, figure out why.
Of course – you’ve got your other examples (and they’re not just exclusive to romantic films): Patrick and Kat from 10 Things I Hate About You, John and Claire from The Breakfast Club, Edward and Bella from Twilight, and even Jonathan and Nancy from Stranger Things.
An article by Psychology Today offers some interesting insight as to why this is so for a lot of women in movies – and sadly, in real life. “Bad boys” or “damaged men” are highly likely to possess traits of narcissism, psychopathy, and Machiavellism (a trait comprised of extraversion, duplicity, and insincerity, with a tendency to manipulate and coerce).
Women often develop sexual attraction for these types of men, as such traits also coincidentally display characteristics of charm, confidence, and the ability to take risks.
However, while filmmakers tend to get their kicks out of romanticising this sexual pattern; we all know these dysfunctional relationships have an incredibly high chance of heading straight to the gutter.
Don’t think I’m giving the women of rom-coms a pass though – we have all too often had to deal with a typical female trope that’s just as obnoxious as the “damaged loser”: the Manic Pixie Dream Girl.
Zooey Deschanel as Summer in 500 Days of Summer, 2009. Fox Searchlight Pictures.
Coined by film critic Nathan Rabin, the term is used to describe those all-too-common female characters that show up in the lives of our male leads, brimming with life, quirkiness, and optimism, and serve no other purpose than to help our deadbeat leading man live a free-spirited life of adventure and cathartic romance.
Other typical additions to the starter pack are unnaturally coloured hair dye and childlike antics.
An example of this female trope (that I personally found insufferable) was Natalie Portman’s textbook-MPDG-character, Sam, from Garden State. The premise of this film, in a nutshell, is that a lonely, depressed Zach Braff visits his hometown in New Jersey and bumps into a bubbly, hyperactive Portman who opens him up to a whole new world of whirlwind love and adventure and screaming into quarries with Peter Saarsgard. And of course, we get that sweet, gratuitous dash through the airport, as many of these romantic films go.
The original manic pixie. Natalie Portman as Sam from Garden State, 2004. Fox Searchlight Pictures/Miramax Films.
While we see development in Braff’s role (that is, a downtrodden depressed dude who eventually find happiness and hope through falling in love), we barely see much depth in Portman, who remains the fairy-like entity of optimism and youth throughout the film, but seemingly nothing more. No character development, no life lessons learned; just a role that served as a plot device for our main guy.
While it may not seem that big of a deal (many would argue that the film is centred on Zach’s character, after all), in a film where we’re meant to care about both characters and how they eventually get together – why not give both the same amount of substance they deserve?
And what about the poor guys who are then naively lead to think that women like these exist? A perfect subversion of such a trope is represented in the fantastic 500 Days of Summer, in which our leading man realises the consequences of this. No one – this applying to both men and women – should have to look to their partner with some sort of skewed expectation that they’ll be “rescued” from their issues.
It’s also likely that after these men really get to know such women beyond their impulsive, carefree antics – the idiosyncrasies, the spontaneity, the innocent naivety will fade to sadly reveal the type of person she’s been all this time: an adult child.
The Cute Stalker
And last – but certainly not least – we’ve got your classic stalker and/or “no-actually-means-try-again” type of behaviour. Like the other tropes, we’re meant to see this plot point as some sort of “cute” gesture of affection. In reality, we’d be filing that restraining order.
A grand example of this that’s almost always mentioned in the category of lovestruck creeps is Andrew Lincoln’s role in Love Actually – a guy who was meant to videotape his best friend’s wedding as the best man, only later revealed to be utterly in love with the bride (played by Keira Knightley). On Christmas Eve, Lincoln shows up at Knightley’s door, and the now-iconic scene of him declaring his love through large, Sharpie’d cue cards plays out.
Ick. Andrew Lincoln as Mark in Love Actually, 2003. Universal Pictures.
It’s meant to be endearing, and we’re meant to feel bad for him; the “friend-zoned” underdog left at the sidelines.
But when you really look into it, this is a guy who essentially ruined his friend’s wedding tape for his own selfish (and ultimately, pointless) gain, who doesn’t seem to show an ounce of friendly decency towards the woman of his affections (both bride and groom actually mistook Lincoln’s behaviour as animosity towards Knightley), and who then, without warning, shows up to her house uninvited – with her husband only a few feet away – to declare the “love” that he had hidden from her all this time.
And, of course, this comes as an awkward surprise to Knightley, as she barely knows the guy; in fact, he had done nothing but avoid any form of interaction with her… so (apart from the fact that she looks like Keira Knightley), he’s in love with her how, exactly?
Those who viewed Lincoln’s character in a more pitiful, stalker-y light aren’t alone – the man himself even admitted to feeling like a bit of a creep during the shooting of this scene.
To grab a more obscure yet extreme example of this; Justin Long and Evan Rachel Wood came out with a romantic comedy in 2013 titled A Case of You, in which Long’s character literally cyber-stalks Wood to the point of obsession. He falls in love with what is merely the Facebook version of her, attempting to mould his own character to fit her online traits and interests.
Justin Long and Evan Rachel Wood as Sam and Birdie in A Case of You, 2013.
Predictably, all goes wrong, Wood finds out, Long makes a total ass out of himself. But perhaps the icing on the cake was when Long himself gets mad at Wood for falling for his fake, fabricated persona, in what might be one of the cringiest gaslighting moments of romantic cinema.
But – (not-so) plot twist! They still get together. Because Long is relatively cute, he did all that he did for love, so all is forgiven.
If these very same scenes were stripped of their sweet, piano instrumentals, gorgeous A-listers, Instagram-filtered colours schemes; and instead overlayed with the score from Birds and Average Joe unknowns from a low-budget indie film, I doubt it’d have the same impact.
Looking into these four irritating clichés, I’ve discovered a common thread that ties them all together – they refuse to give both their audience, and the characters involved, enough intellectual credit.
While we surely turn to these types of movies as a form of escape from reality, there still needs to a touch of common sense to the plot, character development, or specific concepts tackled. Watching a bunch of lovestruck, dim-witted personas on-screen gets frustrating – unless you’re in on the joke, or the “love story” isn’t so much of a focal point in the film as it is more of a side gag.
What makes a good rom-com (with couples that you root for) work, are likeable characters. Understandable decisions and actually surprising plot twists. And – perhaps the most important, and difficult, of all – storylines that take on novel ideas, concerns, and obstacles surrounding their characters: be it a romantic duo overcoming the tribulations of mental illness, a man in love who finds himself waking to the same day as before, or a much more offbeat, enlightening take on why that woman you’ve idealised as an MPDG is likely not the love of your life.
But, since there seems to be a preference of spectacle over substance in the entertainment world (just check how much Michael Bay’s been cashing it in), we may have to continue wading through all this empty, theatrical cheese before eventually finding the surprising few worth our movie ticket.