Wednesday, February 05, 2014

Love and all that bullshit

There’s a lot of soppy tosh written about love.

Fran in BUT I TOLD YOU LAST YEAR THAT I LOVED YOU speaks for me when she says:

Made for each other. What a ridiculously sentimental expression, and it wasn’t even true. Sol and she weren’t made for each other. No-one was made for another person. There were no perfect matches. That was a load of twaddle. But they loved each other – that was the point. He drove her up the wall, and she loved him.

Because I’m writing a screen adaptation of BUT I TOLD YOU LAST YEAR THAT I LOVED YOU, I’m currently watching a lot of romantic comedies. But I’m only watching the best ones. Helpfully, Billy Mernit lists these in the back of his excellent book Writing the Romantic Comedy. (Yes, well spotted! It is the book that Sally Howe is always referring to in PLOTTING FOR GROWN-UPS.)

I have to watch each film several times, to see how they work. And on third viewing I’ve decided that Moonstruck – which up to now I didn’t quite get – has become one of my favourites. Not much happens in it, unlike Working Girl, which is stuffed full of plot – and which I also like. But there is a lot to think about in Moonstruck – stuff about love and death.

The first time I watched it, the hero’s histrionics got up my nose. But now I like him.

I particularly like this quote from him:

Loretta, I love you. Not like they told you love is, and I didn't know this either, but love don't make things nice - it ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren't here to make things perfect. The snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. Not us! We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and die. The storybooks are bullshit. Now I want you to come upstairs with me and get in my bed!



OK, Ronnie, whatever you say!

No comments: