Love Actually

(Warning: contains spoilers for Love Actually in case you haven't already seen it a billion times anyways)

I am really very fond of Love Actually.  It came out in the winter of 2003 when I was in my last year at university and had a lecturer like Billy Mack.  I watch it at least once a year on purpose when wrapping my Christmas presents (and then I accidentally watch it again in lots of parts because it’s on television a billion times a year).  The soundtrack makes me happy.  There are still bits that make me laugh.  

Romantic comedy.  Remember that.

And yet I am also aware of this one truth.


It’s awful.

Really awful. 

I have no way to defend it.

But it keeps coming up on lists of “feel good Christmas films” and so we need to talk about Love Actually.

For those who have managed to avoid it, this is a Richard Curtis romantic comedy with an impressive cast who make up ten separate, but intersecting stories (apart from Billy Mack, who only seems to intersect by being on people’s TV screens and radios, but ok).  At the point when the film was released, there were a smattering of well-known British stars in it, but the majority of the cast have now gone on to international acclaim (this is Andrew Lincoln pre-The Walking Dead, January Jones pre-Mad Men, Thomas Brodie-Sangster pre-Game of Thrones, Olivia Olson pre-Adventure Time).  Like it or not, Love Actually is a great film if you’re playing 6 Degrees of Separation. 

There’s no issue with any of that, per se.  I quite like the concept although it’s better played out elsewhere (Pulp Fiction, or Crazy Stupid Love perhaps).  What I do struggle with are the following things:

• The timeline makes no sense

I’m generally happy to ignore timelines, if I’m honest.  But the good people at Love Actually seem to have gone out of their way to provoke me.  The film is really clear that the action starts 5 weeks before Christmas, and ends on Christmas Eve (with a one-month-later epilogue).  So who in their right minds decides that is the best time to create a Christmas single to get the Christmas number 1/give children their parts in the nativity play (given out in October, surely?)/book a venue for a work do in London at Christmas?  And who is the teacher who casts Sam (Thomas Brodie-Sangster) as a drummer two weeks before the carol concert when he hasn’t learned how to drum yet?

It also means that the Jamie/Aurelia storyline runs thus: Jamie finds out his girlfriend is cheating on him.  Jamie goes to France.  Hires Aurelia as his cleaner (why do you need a cleaner – you’re not even away for a month!).  He writes.  They misunderstand each other for a while.  He goes back to London, learns Portuguese, she learns English, he returns to propose (spontaneously), she accepts and they all live happily ever after.  IN FIVE WEEKS!!!!  Go to any school that teaches languages.  In five weeks, you’re learning vocabulary for food and animals, you’re not constructing impromptu romantic proposals. 

It means that Juliet/Peter get married, go on honeymoon, come back, while Mark splices together a creepy videotape that exorcises his best friend from his own wedding.  Mark confesses his undying love, but it’s ok because he’s essentially over it in a month.  Or he’s creepily still hanging round with his married friends.  IN FIVE WEEKS!!!

So there is an issue about how much you can get done in 5 weeks.  There’s also an issue about how those five weeks are constructed.  Tony (Abdul Salis) – Colin Frissell’s mate – is deriding him about his love life at a wedding in one scene, and in the very next one (which is happening on the same time and on the same day) is directing Jack to massage Judy’s breasts “for the lighting”.  Tony is constantly in two places at one time.  It’s weird.  I had a genuine concern for a while that I might be racist because I couldn’t tell two black actors apart.  It took me so long to realise it was the same guy because my poor brain couldn't conceive that someone would keep putting the same guy in consecutive scenes of two storylines happening concurrently. 

Jack and Judy in the meantime go out on a date on Christmas Eve, part company at her door, kissing happens and then they…meet up again at the school carol concert on the same night.

Let’s also talk about Joanna’s family.  Her parents, knowing that they are due to emigrate that night, allow their daughter to take part in the school carol concert, then jump in a car to make the last flight to New York.  This may be specific to my family (maybe your family is different!) but my parents would have moved us into the airport a fortnight before departure and forfeited the carol concert of their 9 year old.  No arguments.  Just get in the car.

It doesn’t make sense. 

• Poor representation of everyone who isn’t a white man. 

Stand-up comedian Junior Simpson got a part in Love Actually because he made a joke that Richard Curtis should have received the best editing Oscar for Notting Hill for removing all the non-white people out of one of the most ethnically diverse areas of London.  On the back of this, Curtis cast him as the awful wedding DJ (“Now here’s one for the lovers.  There’s quite a few of you so I shouldn’t be surprised and a half” is his main line.  Which makes no sense.)  So that’s one non-white person.  And so is Tony (Abdul Salis).  And so is Peter (Chiwetel Ejiofor).  And so is Annie (Nina Sosanya).  They are the most thinly drawn characters in the entire film.  We know nothing about them at all.  We know more about Colin Frissell, and he’s entirely there for comedy purposes.  It would seem that only the white people, with non-ethically sounding names get character and background.  Sorry Heike Makatsch (Mia) and Rodrigo Santoro (Karl).  No three-dimensional aspects for you.

There’s a tiny bit more diversity progress in terms of sexuality.  Sarah (Laura Linney) asks Peter (Andrew Lincoln) if he’s gay.  Daniel (Liam Neeson) is forward thinking enough to consider that Sam (Thomas Brodie-Sangster) might be developing feelings for another guy.  The implication in both examples is that it would be ok if they were.  But they’re not.  All of the relationships are solely heterosexual.

Now I’m not saying that you need to represent all backgrounds, and all possible groups of people.  But when you have so many different people and so many different stories, maybe have more than just the white, heterosexual people?  And this complaint gathers a little more force when you watch the deleted scenes – those stories were there and written, cast and performed.  Frances De La Tour and Anne Reid were an older gay couple.   There were scenes of Kenyan friends talking about their relationships.  But those were the stories that were cut.  Those were the stories that could be lifted out, wholesale, and not affect the rest of the plot.  That sits uncomfortably with me.  I’m not sure if Curtis believes that gay people can only be friends with gay people, and black people can’t really be friends with white people, but it would seem that way in his editing.  He explains that these were the stories that had to be cut for time, but conversely relays that Alan Rickman approached him for the confrontation scene between Karen (Emma Thompson) and Harry (Rickman) to be added.  This was granted.  Hmm...

• The men win in the end.  The women do not.

Here’s what happens the women:

• Karen – cheated on.  Her husband buys another woman a £200+ gold necklace (that looks like it’s made out of pasta, but whatever).  She gets a scarf and CD.  She is sad.
• Natalie – sexually harassed in the workplace by the Prime Minister of the UK and President of the US.  Body shamed by her family and her work colleagues.
• Sarah – pressured to have sex by a one night stand who seems to believe that his need for sex trumps her need to comfort her mentally ill brother.
• Juliet – finds a video entirely made up of footage of her, taken by her husband’s best friend, less than a fortnight after her wedding. Stalked.
• Aurelia – a crowd of people turn up to her work to, ostensibly, watch her be murdered by a stranger
• Aurelia’s sister – told her father will willingly sell her to any man prepared to marry her.  Body shamed.
• Nancy – told her work is worthless by a horny waiter (as he’s chatting her up)
• Carla – brought to the UK as some kind of duty free woman for Tony
• Britney Spears – we’re told she’s rubbish at sex, and she’s not even in the film
• Margaret Thatcher – called a “saucy minx”.  Based on…being a woman, I guess.

Find me footage of women being respected in this film for 10 seconds.  Or winning in any way.  You can’t.

I know, Emma.

Here’s what happens the men:

• Peter – happy (though doesn’t know his best friend fancies his wife)
• Mark – his best mate’s wife finds a video he made of her.  She is oddly flattered.  He turns up to his mates house to confess his undying love to his wife.  She kisses him.  No other consequences.
• Billy Mack – gets Christmas number one.  String of sexual encounters.  Is happy.
• Jamie – proposes to the woman he’s never had a conversation with.  She joyfully accepts.  The entire town celebrates.
• Daniel – meets the woman of his dreams who looks a lot like Claudia Schiffer.
• Sam – his childhood crush comes  back from America.
• David – is declared a national hero for nearly starting a war with America because the President sexually harassed the object of his affection.  Makes grand gesture at the expense of the taxpayer.  Everyone mightily impressed.
• Harry – has affair.  Wife takes him back (according to interviews with Curtis).  No other consequences.
• Colin – has sex with at least four women he meets as soon as he lands in Wisconsin
• Tony – is brought Carla.  She’s real friendly.

And Kevin.  Remember Kevin?  (in order to have a good workplace Christmas party)..."...bulk buy the guacamole and tell the women to avoid Kevin if they want their breasts unfondled."  Not "let's maybe discipline Kevin in some way."  Nope.  I am aware of this sexual predator, and choose to ignore his behaviour.  Instead it's your job, ladies, to make sure you aren't sexually assaulted in the workplace.  Ugh.

Find me footage of men winning in any way.  That’s the entirety of the film.

Whoo!  Stalking works!

• No love

This is a particularly weird thing.  Just take a moment and think about this.  Hugh Grant tells us that “love, actually, is all around”.  Now, I will concede that there are many different types of love and that friends come across quite well (Karen and Daniel, Tony and Colin, Billy and Joe).  There are some examples of close family relationships (Karen and David, Sarah and-her-nameless-brother-in-the-worst-psychiatric-facility-ever).  But…

Love Actually is touted as the ultimate romantic comedy. 

Where?

What relationship shows actual, romantic love?

There’s lust aplenty.  There’s crushes, yes.  But romantic love?  Lacking, actually.

I don’t know why I like this film.  But maybe, as with all Christmas traditions, it’s now just part of Christmas and I should accept it.  Like chocolate for breakfast and deciding to see as many people as I know before the arbitrary deadline of December 25^th, and falling asleep during Doctor Who because I had too many roasties.  The big clue is Billy Mack pausing in what he’s doing to say “this is shit, isn’t it?” and smiling and carrying on anyway.

Additional thoughts, comments and questions:

• Spelling of Christmas

Natalie’s card to David the Prime Minister.  Where she’s spelled “Christmas” incorrectly.

Oh Natalie. 

• Airport security

For a film which starts off by alerting us to the fact that this is very definitely a post 9/11 film, airport security sucks.  Sam vaults security clearance, is chased by at least 3 security staff (more if you watch the deleted scenes), gets through the entirety of Heathrow airport and has a quick chat with Joanna before he is marched back to his stepdad and left without even so much as a mild ticking off.

The fact that the Prime Minister of the UK comes through airport security and someone bursts through the crowd and leaps on him and isn’t immediately wrestled to the ground and/or shot is nothing short of a Christmas miracle.

• Electric Bills

The Wisconsin Women have no money, and have to share a bed and can’t even afford pyjamas.  Small suggestions: stop drinking so much in bars, and cut your leccy bill by having fewer Christmas lights.

• Gift wrapping 

A present that is wrapped with rose petals, lavender and a cinnamon stick is going to smell rank.  End of.

• This phrase...

Cock-bloctopus

Merry Christmas. 

The Big Sick

(Warning: contains spoilers for The Big Sick)

It’s difficult to know where to start with real-life stories in films.  Can they be critiqued in the same way as a completely fictional film?  In the case of The Big Sick, it is a real-life story about a real-life event, where the writer and producer is the main character.  So…even if parts don’t make sense, or characters seem odd, that’s how it happened, right?

Image for The Big Sick

The Big Sick is an independent, inter-racial rom-com about the relationship between Kumail (played by Kumail Nanjiani), and Emily (Zoe Kazan), who meet, date and break up.  At the point of their break-up, the eponymous Big Sick appears and Emily winds up in a medically induced coma.  Unsure of whether to go (they have broken up after all) or stay (because he is a decent human being who wants to check if his ex is ok), he winds up meeting Emily’s parents - Beth and Terry - (Ray Romano and Holly Hunter) and the three become close while sharing this complicated, unfamiliar situation.

Other image you get if you Google The Big Sick

Beth and Terry are some of the most understandable and sympathetic characters in the film.  In the absence of being able to do anything useful for their daughter they resort to various fruitless tasks, keen to just fill in the time until she wakes up.  Terry diligently writes down every jargony medical term and medication used ("is that with a 'ph' or with an 'f'?") in an allocated notebook, while Beth ponders whether the hospital is the best one for her daughter ("it's ranked seventh") and tries to out-think the hospital staff. Initially suspicious of Kumail ("she tells us everything"), their relationship together is hesitant and sweet and becomes a different kind of parental as they go to watch Kumail's open-mic comedy performances, where they tackle Islamophobia and hecklers in a way that only parents would.  Through spending time with Emily's parents, Kumail realises how little he knows about his own and begins to rectify that in small ways, like asking which film they met at during their first arranged date.

Running parallel to this story line are two other storyline threads (and they do run parallel because those threads don't really converge).  One is about Kumail’s ongoing pursuit of being a stand-up comedian, playing open mic nights and hoping to get his big break while working for Uber to pay the rent.  The other (significantly more interesting) thread is Kumail’s family dynamic.  Kumail’s parents - Azmat and Sharmeen (Anupam Kher and Zenobia Schroff) are from Pakistan, and have moved to America to give their children more opportunities.  But they have strong ideas about their children maintaining Pakistani traditions - and every Friday night, Kumail's mum invites a girl to "just pop over" to meet him (with a photograph, resume, and ideally a semi decent knowledge of The X Files), in the hope it will lead to an arranged marriage with someone from the same culture ("in Pakistan, we just call it marriage").  Kumail's parents are unaware that he is dating Emily.  Emily is unaware that Kumail's parents are setting up an arranged marriage for him.

The development of Kumail's struggle between his Pakistani and American heritage is an interesting one, and certainly gives The Big Sick a unique selling point.  As a theme, it's been recently played out in Aziz Ansari's Master of None and poses a number of interesting points.  Kumail faces small, potentially racist comments and assumptions throughout the film which he bats away with weary good humour.  Some are well intentioned (Terry trying and failing to connect to Kumail:  "So...9/11...I've always wanted to...talk to someone [like you] about that."), some are more malicious (like the heckler who tells him to go back to ISIS "because of how he looks").  Kumail's parents acknowledge that they wanted their children to grow up in America, but constantly point out in small ways how Pakistan is better ("kulfi is better than icecream").  Kumail is keen to keep up appearances - he doesn't pray, but leads his parents to believe he does.  He doesn't want to break up with Emily, but is happy to let his mother continue to set him up every Friday night without fail.  He rejects their ideals, telling his audience one evening that he knows his career choice is not approved of ("it goes doctor, engineer, lawyer...a thousand other jobs...ISIS, then comedian"), but he still clings on to his heritage, performing in an excruciating one-man show ("do you feel that - that's the weight of Pakistan's history") for no real reason that's ever explained (and I wish had been explored more).  Certainly, a rejection of his parent's culture equals a rejection of them, and although this storyline plays out in the loosest of terms, there is a lot more to be mined here.  (For example, there is an odd moment where they speak Urdu in front of one of the many Pakistani suitors paraded in front of Kumail, not considering that someone from a similar culture and background would probably speak Urdu too, revealing perhaps a small insight into their own views on their American homeland.)  Understandably, if this is one of the "real-life" parts of the film, maybe this is not something that Nanjiani is ready to explore further yet. 

Co-produced by Judd Apatow, there are a lot of Apatow-esque tropes at play here.  Kumail would live happily in most Apatow productions, with his Shaun of the Dead poster, lack of furniture, dishevelled living arrangements, and unparalleled knowledge of B-list horror movies.  He slowly learns to better connect with those around him, and by the end of the film is taking a more active role in his own life (rather than allowing it to passively happen to him).  So far, so Apatow, and I have no qualms about any of those things (other than wishing Kumail would make his bed and wash his sheets).

Not art.  Not a good night's sleep either.

The more unfortunate Apatow trope at play is the portrayal of women, which isn't great.  There are 4 women to speak of - Emily, Beth, Sharmeen and Mary (a friend from stand up).  There are also a small parade of rejected suitors for Kumail.  Mary serves to further Kumail's stand up plot and not much else.  Beth and Sharmeen are good characters who become more interesting when described by their husbands (although definitely the most well defined women of the film).   The strangest thing to me in this whole film (and perhaps why this film hasn't particularly stayed with me) is that I have no real sense of who Emily is.  The film revolves around her, but by the end I know little of her as a girlfriend, a friend, a daughter.  She works as a Domestic Violence Support Worker (a very specific job title which is never mentioned again), and...maybe that's it.  There is little focus on her in hospital, there are no bedside vigils, there are no stories about what Emily is like.  This could be fine - it could be billed as a story about Kumail, Emily's parents, Kumail's parents, those interactions, the clash of two different cultures.  In which case the Big Sick of the title would just be the maguffin that catalysed the plot.  But it's described as a rom-com.  And although there is rom, and com, it's with a very thinly sketched Emily.  Again, maybe it's still too hard to write - it is, after all the real-life Emily and Kumail writing the story.  I do wonder what real-life Emily makes of this production.

Additional thoughts, comments and questions:

1. The quote on the Shaun of the Dead poster ("an absolute blast") was from zombie-meister George A Romero.
2. Adeel Akhtar seems to have been singled out for praise in some of the reviews I've read, but I can't actually remember his contribution to the plot.
3. The moment where Kumail tried to see Emily's apartment through her parents eyes (and edit accordingly) was quite sweet (as he hid a bag of cannabis from sight).
4. There is a good film in here.  But maybe the rom-com is dead? 

Bridget Jones's Baby

Warning: contains spoilers for Bridget Jones’s Baby.

Every so often, I see a film at the cinema where the audience totally gets involved with whatever they’re watching.  More than just laughing along with the jokes, these are the films where there are audible gasps, cheers, applause and occasional heckles.  More often than not, the thing that seems to provoke this response is a particular character/set of characters, a familiarity and affinity with them.

Last night’s viewing – Bridget Jones’s Baby - was one of those films.

It’s been 15 years since the first Bridget Jones film, and 12 years since we saw her last in Bridget Jones: the Edge of Reason.  A lot hasn’t changed – she’s still in the same flat, still with the same friends, still with some of the same work colleagues (but with the welcome addition of Sarah Solemani and Joanna Scanlon), still has no clear concept of grocery shopping (her fridge contains one mouldy lemon and a packet of thyme), still under the same passive pressure from her mother to get married and have babies.

Learn to shop, woman!

But a lot has changed too, for better and worse.  She’s now 43, a successful television producer, and a lot more comfortable in her own skin.  She’s happier with her weight – in fact, short of one brief mention of it at the start of the film, I can’t recall any further discussion of it.  No enormous pants or fighting with Spanx in this film.  Her friends have also grown up – the nights of downing shots and experimental cooking have been replaced by a series of last minute text messages bailing on plans (“the sitter’s cancelled”, “the baby’s sick”) – but there is a conscious effort to maintain those friendships.  Shazzer, Magda, Jude and Tom are still in touch on a regular basis for updates and advice, but the main meeting places are the important life events – births, christenings, weddings and funerals. 

Who are these people who have cupcakes on a plate?

Significantly, for Bridget, she is single again.  The relationship with Mark ended due to work pressures, and too many nights alone.  That said, Bridget in her 40s is not sitting at home pining for a man and a relationship.  She’s taking active control of her life and trying new things with Miranda (Solemani).  This leads to one pregnant Bridget, and two potential fathers – Jack Qwant (Patrick Dempsey) or Mark Darcy (Colin Firth).  This becomes an interesting storyline – not the storyline of Bridget trying to hide the truth from both of them and hoping the other doesn’t find out, but Bridget laying all her cards on the table and dealing with the consequences, even if those consequences are that she brings the baby up herself.



Pretty much no other reference to giant pants in this film.

Well, that’s almost it.  For me, this is a weak spot, and a substantial one at that.  The film takes great pains to state that both men would love Bridget, and would be excellent fathers for the baby.  Both men proffer to raise the child (even if it transpires that the baby is not theirs).  Bridget cannot choose between them.  And in the end…she doesn’t.  And this is a shame because Bridget has been a stronger, more mature, decisive character in this film, but then allows the films conclusion to kind of passively happen to her.  There aren’t really many consequences as a result, and the film is poorer for it, especially as this character has such form for making active decisions – this is the same Bridget who actively rejects Daniel Cleaver because she knew she could do better, tracks Mark Darcy down to make public declarations of love, and tells her boss to stick his job.  Bridget has always spoken her mind (clumsily, unadvisedly, bluntly) – such impassiveness on her part seems sadly uncharacteristic.

A second bugbear is the storyline of Bridget’s mum running for parish council, but having to learn that that means she will have to accept gay couples, unwed mothers, immigrants and Italians.  This storyline was pointless, patronising and cack-handed.  But again, could have been something better.

However, all things considered, I still really enjoyed this film.  And so did the cinema audience I saw it with, who cheered, whooped and laughed in equal measures.  Rightly so – there’s a lot to like.  Emma Thompson shamelessly steals every scene she’s in, and as one of the co-writers steals a lot of the good lines (I feel that her character has a whole other back story going on – anyone else think that?).  Bridget’s friends and family are all back, and familiar versions of themselves.  There’s a lot of big laughs to be had – v. good.           

Welcome back Bridget.  I’ve missed you.

Additional bonus thought!

Two random thoughts that occurred:

1. It was refreshing to see characters who have aged.  Bridget and her contemporaries are now in their 40s and they look like they are.  There’s grey hair, wrinkles, age spots and paunches.  Bridget looks pretty authentically scruffy  when she’s slobbing about her flat in her PJs.  Even the younger cast (by which I mean Sarah Solemani again) acknowledge that in order to be the presentable face of youth, it comes with effort, primping, and having your upper lip waxed – the way people look on screen is not “real life”.
2. Has the rom-com died?  I wondered this last year when I watched Man Up, which felt like it belonged firmly in the 90s.  Bridget Jones’s Baby feels contemporary (probably because it’s drawing on the progress of pre-established characters), but there haven’t been many rom-coms on at cinemas lately.  Where did the rom-com go?