Watching rom-coms makes the world feel less terrible
It’s only in these sanguine stories that I feel safe as a viewer, where I know I won’t get an image of a bloodstained bride stuck in my head.
By Judi Ketteler
My husband and I try not to complain about each other, but if pressed, I’m guessing this is what he’d put atop a list of grievances about me: “Her taste in shows and movies is terrible!”
Personally, I don’t think my taste is terrible at all. I think it’s simply … limited. Limited to big- and small-screen productions that feature mostly likeable people, doing mostly unheinous things — like coupling, uncoupling and coupling again, and maybe solving some problems and being quirky along the way. These people may suffer and experience some emotional distress, but they do not lose children to terrible illnesses or accidents. Nor do they murder and torture each other, fight in wars, bake meth in the desert or do anything that people in, say, Quentin Tarantino movies do.
In other words, my viewing taste is limited to certain kinds of thinky dramas, to BBC period pieces about queens, country estates or sisters searching for husbands, and, of course, to romantic comedies. It is only in these kinds of sanguine stories that I feel safe as a viewer; where I know I won’t wind up having nightmares or get an image of a bloodstained bride forever stuck in my head.
The movies I like feature the admirable parts of humanity. Sure, the characters are flawed, but the best part is when you get to see them fixing their mistakes: When Tom Hanks’ ego-filled Joe Fox knows he’s got to make it right after hurting Meg Ryan’s spunky Kathleen Kelly in “You’ve Got Mail.” When Geoffrey Rush as the speech therapist and Colin Firth as the king make up in “The King’s Speech.” When Anya Taylor-Joy as Emma Woodhouse finally wises up in “Emma,” and Alicia Silverstone’s Cher does the same in “Clueless.”
We live our own best moments when we see characters have theirs. And when they wind up happily ever after? It’s a rush of much-needed endorphins.
“Don’t you want to be challenged?” my husband will ask me. “Don’t you want a story that sticks with you?”
No and no.
I’ve suffered through the horror and misogyny of “Apocalypse Now,” the toxic masculinity of “Glengarry Glen Ross,” the warped punchiness of “Pulp Fiction,” the absurdity for no reason at all of “Magnolia” (seriously, why?). These are just a few of the oh-so-highly-acclaimed movies I have watched in service of making sure I appreciate “genius” and understand the awfulness of people. And I am done.
So here’s the truth: “When Harry Met Sally” is my favorite movie, though “Pride and Prejudice” (the Colin Firth adaptation) is a close second. And I wouldn’t kick “Love Actually” off the screen.
This is no longer something I am embarrassed about. I don’t cling to romantic comedies because I think they represent life. In fact, I understand that most of my favorite movies have major representation problems in that they are telling stories about mostly white, heterosexual, well-off people.
I also understand that there are feminist red flags all over the place, and I believe that making marriage the ultimate prize for women — “the marriage plot” — is a one-dimensional, highly problematic view of female lives and aspirations.
But to all of this I say: People are contradictions. Their political beliefs and ideological convictions do not always mesh neatly with their Netflix queue.
The thing is, when I’m watching fictional characters on the screen, I am the character. I am in it. Unlike when I’m reading, I can’t put what I am seeing into a special compartment that stays sealed. The gore and sadness and fear leaks out and washes all over me.
I’m not trying to run away from reality, though. In fact, I want to make sure I stay tethered, so I can fight for what I believe in and raise engaged children. Accordingly, this past Saturday I spent the day reading about the increasing threats from domestic terrorism, learning about the new ultracontagious strains of Covid-19 and searching frantically for a vaccine appointment for my 85-year-old mom.
And then lathering on the rom-com salve in the form of “The American President” and “Bridget Jones’s Diary.”
I need a break from the heavy thinking and reading that helps me stay sharp and connected. For me, that break happens inside rom-coms. Hugh Grant will not solve any of the biggest challenges facing us today, but he will keep the bogeyman out of my psyche. At least for two hours.
Judi Ketteler (@judiketteler) is the author of WOULD I LIE TO YOU? THE AMAZING POWER OF BEING HONEST IN A WORLD THAT LIES. She often writes about the awkward truths of midlife.