Posted by
Michael Goodell on Friday, January 08, 2010 1:45:24 PM
http://www.mlgoodell.webs.com
There’s a
new romantic comedy out today, called “Leap Year.” Starring Amy Adams,
Adam Scott and Matthew Goode, it tells the story of a woman who flies
to Ireland hoping to convince her boyfriend to marry her, only to fall
in love with a pub owner instead.
I haven’t seen the film, so I can’t say if it’s worth seeing. Though I
read a review today, by Tom Long, of the “Detroit News,” I can’t say if
it’s worth seeing. I can tell you that Long thinks it is full of
cliches, it doesn’t break any new ground, and though the three actors
“conspire to elevate the script at least a teensy bit,” it’s still
awful.
When he first started writing movie reviews, Long projected a sort of
“Every Man” persona. He reacted to celluloid efforts as a common man,
and as a result, the reader went away with a good idea of what the
movie was about, and armed with the information necessary to making a
decision whether to watch it or not. Over the years, however, Long has
begun worshiping at the altar of cinematic sophistication. Today, as a
result, he’s just another cookie-cutter movie critic.
Critics are all cut from the same cloth. They know more than you do,
they know what’s good for you, and they aren’t afraid to tell you what
it is. Sort of like Democrats assembling a “health care reform” bill.
One thing movie critics share is an abhorrence for romantic comedies.
Romantic comedies aren’t serious films. They are brain candy, nothing
more than, dare we say the word? Entertainment.
As such they are relegated to a special level of cinematic hell. They
aren’t worthy of serious comment, nor should moviegoers, those poor
benighted souls incapable of thinking for themselves, waste their time
and money seeing them. The only problem with that dismissive view is
that romantic comedies don’t claim to be serious films. They are
blatantly, and unabashedly produced to provide nothing more than
entertainment.
When reviewing romantic comedies, film critics don’t need to dwell on
the script, or the plot, or how realistic the movie is. The only thing
they need to address is chemistry. How do the characters interact? Does
the viewer care whether the girl gets the guy or the guy gets the girl?
That’s all that matters in romantic comedies.
And that just drives film sophisticates crazy. A prime example of the
absurdity critics bring to romantic comedies, when they deign to
discuss them at all, was a comment by one of the “New York Times” film
critics, in a review of “Maid in Manhattan,” a bowl of soft-serve goo,
built around a simplistic plot and designed to make people, generally
couples, leave the theater feeling good about themselves.
In the film Jennifer Lopez played a hotel maid who fell in love with
Ralph Fiennes, who was, I believe, a politician. The Times reviewer
noted that the film makers missed the opportunity to explore the
pressures and hardships faced by an Hispanic single mother living in
New York. Uh, no, the film makers didn’t miss that opportunity. That
opportunity never came up. They were making a romantic comedy.
This is not to say there is no place in the world for serious cinema.
Of course there is. Just as there is a place for thrillers, horror
films, family films, and, unfortunately, gross-out adolescent male
comedies. But for some reason, film critics seem to be offended by a
simple, formulaic, entertaining romantic comedy. They seem to feel
that, in order to garner their respect, a film must be transgressive,
or subversive to established and generally accepted norms and standards