How I became a hopeless romantic
If you clicked on this article, I presume you’re either curious about my admission, a fellow romantic-comedy fan, or my mom (hi mom!). Regardless of your reasoning, yes… I must admit: I am a self-proclaimed hopeless romantic.
This delusion has spanned across the various years of my life and is a skill—or weakness, depending on your perspective—that began early in life when my mother raised me on films like Some Kind of Wonderful, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Never Been Kissed, 27 Dresses, and many more iconic household titles. Every weekend, without fail, I would curl up on her bed with a nighttime snack as our personal comments and squeals filled the room during scenes when the romantic tension between characters reached its climax. These films shaped the way in which I encountered the world and brought warmth into my soul whenever I needed a pick-me-up in my life. From repetitive viewings of these feel-good movies, I began to learn famous quotes and pieces of advice I carry with my heart today. I cannot count the number of times my mother and I have said “arrivederci” and “au revoire” when she dropped me off at school in the mornings—I know, we’re serious rom-com nerds.
I’ve attempted to figure out the key ingredient in the absolutely perplexing formula for these comfort films that always leave me invested throughout the love arc, from nerve-wracking conflict to satisfying finale. The ideas that repeatedly come to mind are escapism and fantasy. Rom-coms offer a delightful escape from reality, often featuring idealized versions of romance by addressing the hypothetical, “what-if” outcomes of a situation, despite all the extraneous circumstances we face in the real world. Likewise, this fantastical element seems to evolve from the usage of plot points taken from classical literature such as Shakespeare and Austen. Such quintessential cult-classics that are adaptations of renowned writing include 10 Things I Hate About You, inspired by the play, The Taming of the Shrew, and Clueless, which is a nod to the comical matchmaking story in Emma. Usually, there is an element of dramatic irony which elevates the stakes of the relationship between both lovers and brings audience members to their feet as they vouch for the protagonist. From taking a modern spin on such famous and well-received work comes the beautiful fusion of romantic-comedy.
While many could rattle off problems with this genre of film, such as a potential lack of authenticity, I think these exact grievances about the unrealistic nature of romantic-comedies is what makes this genre even more pertinent to preserving optimism and hope during this day and age. You cannot deny that each and every one of us has had dreams or high expectations to see that certain someone at tonight’s party or meet our celebrity crush (Colin Firth, I’m still holding out for you). Yes, I will still dream of the day that my online pen-pal turns out to be my business enemy I’ve developed feelings for. Yes, I will still dream for a brooding Mr. Darcy-esque character I can write about in my diary. And yes, I will still dream of the day that my love interest and Billy Idol plan a way to serenade me on an airplane heading to my dreadful Las Vegas elopement.
I feel as though the digital world thrown upon Generation Z has done everything but help the dating climate, stifling an organic process to meet other young people and treating the subject of love as if it were a video game full of doomscrolling through real-life names and faces. Users on these applications solely absorb information about superficial traits rather than deeper, more meaningful qualities of a person that could only be learned through in-person conversation and the mutual sharing of an experience. You are sorely mistaken if you think Elizabeth (Reese Witherspoon) from Just Like Heaven would've ever met her love interest, David (Mark Ruffalo), through Hinge. I believe that this issue of the digitalization and, ultimately, disappearance of “meet-cutes” contributes to the lack of romantic quality I have struggled to identify in more recent 2020s rom-coms. Films such as Addison Rae’s hyperdigitalized He’s All That have not left me feeling the familiar nostalgic embrace I find in older movies with the whole premise surrounding the idea of social media and using others to gain more followers. Never in all my years of living would I have thought a TikTok dance would utterly enamor a character in a movie.
Another interesting (and slightly controversial) film that has come out in recent years is Will Gluck’s Anyone But You, starring Sydney Sweeney and Glen Powell as they go from enemies to lovers in this overdone trope. This film is actually based on Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing, but, according to various Google reviews, lacks the sophistication because it is “predictable” and “unoriginal”. Upon my second watch of this film, in which my mother joined, she also expressed the same feeling of dissatisfaction with the ending, citing that it just didn’t hold the same hopeful, optimistic tone we could identify in rom-coms before. My point that I leave you all with is whether this is truly a question of poor writing or rather that Gluck’s attempt at showcasing a modern-day romance failed because of that exact reason: modern romances aren’t the same as they used to be.
My 11-year-old and current self would’ve never taken such grand leaps of faith if it wasn’t for these films that became a guidance in my own life to take a chance on everything I encounter. After all, you’ll never know unless you try.