Friday, June 4, 2010

Romantic Comedies. No, no, romatic crap.

Some of you may be wondering if I have gone cynical on you. No, that's not it. I just feel I have been around the block and can finally understand some real grown-up things about love and not fairy tale fancies that have been flitting about my brain all hopped up on dreams my whole life.
I recently watched Leap Year with my mother. I didn't have very high expectations as I never actually wanted to see it, the preview pretty much said it all, but it was recommended to me nonetheless and my mom was desperate to see it. I was severely disappointed. No, I'll even go one further, I was severely pissed off to boot. It was such a bunch of hokie bullshit! It is so like romantic comedies to throw two attractive people together, against all odds and bam! It's love! Who could've seen it coming?! The girl is always one of two stock characters--the neurotic planner type who has had some sort of childhood trauma to explain why she's so uptight, or the free spirit/klutzy darling who knows about poetry and is oh-so-lovable and endearing. Amy Adams played the first one in this flick.
She and her would-be romantic interest, the Irish Rogue taking her to propose to her boyfriend, are so clearly disgusted with each other (spoiler, it's actually love brewing beneath all that animosity. It's stark-raving passion people! Don't you see?) but somehow in a mere matter of days, love blossoms! Love, I say! Another spoiler, so quit reading if you actually want to see this colossal waste of time, but after she arrives safely into her boyfriend's arms and gets what she always wanted, she realizes, what she wants is back in Ireland. Off she goes to make a bold statement, flying across the country (because movie heroines always have endless pools of money to take multiple trips to Ireland in a few weeks time) and declares her love for said Irish Rogue in front of gads of people in a soul-wrenching way. Oh and it gets better... he proposes! Fate, I say!
I literally could almost feel bile rising in my throat after finishing this particular "romance." It's so outlandish that it actually now just makes me livid. I don't think, aw shucks, sometimes love just works that way. Or maybe I too will meet some delicious yet saucy foreigner who spars with me in the most affectionate way and then flies to America to win me back after I've gotten on a plane. He'll waltz into my place of employ and trumpet in front of coworkers and members alike that he has fallen deeply in love with me and had to (just had to) fly across country to tell me. I shall simper and cry and run into his arms. Naturally my boss will let me leave, because such a grandiose declaration doesn't happen like that every day. And then fast forward to us driving in a convertible in Prague with a scarf tied in my hair, head tipped back in laughter with my dishy beau behind the wheel looking longingly at me, with both parts desire and adoration gleaming in his sparkling aqua eyes.
Hmm. Sounds legit. Could happen to anyone. Okay, before you all get your panties knotted for me pissing on your romantic comedy parade, well I'm sorry, but I've just had it and if you had a blog you could retaliate.
But I will say this. Because I have always been a die hard lover of love and still do appreciate romance, let me paint you a picture of what I still do believe constitutes a good melt your heart kinda love.

When my grandpa used to tell my grandma she was his best girl and then wink at her.
When my best friends boyfriend stays up with a certain friend of hers while she pukes her guts out and frantically brings her Gatorade and holds it to her mouth like a bottle so she can rehydrate.
When you do something really embarrassing in front of your boyfriend that should make him cringe and instead your eyes meet and you both become hysterical, because he knows you and you know him, and really, who cares?
When you see your dad kiss your mom with that twinkle in his eye, because even though they've been married for twenty-five years, have oodles of kids and stress, you can see that it's still love when he looks at her.
When before you've even gotten on the train to leave him your boyfriend texts you he misses you already and your heart does an achy beat.

That is a kind of love I can appreciate. I just don't have tolerance for that fakey nonsense depicted in movies anymore, but something raw and real and desperately hard-won is the kind of love I look up to and respect. So sorry Hollywood, your sad attempts at portraying worthwhile love are now lost on this girl. We had a good run, but it's over. I bid you a not so sad adieu.