I have a dark secret, one I have not shared with many as it threatens my future career and livelihood. Warning: Sensitive readers should not continue. Are you still here? Ok, just remember I warned you. My secret is… I love romantic comedies. Dun…Dun…Dunn… There I said it. Wow, if it feels good to get that off my chest.
You may be wondering why a seemingly benign piece of information is so damning. Well, if you are a film major, like myself, the only movies you are allowed to enjoy are tragic extensionalist films that make your brain hurt to the point you want to slam your head into a desk. No happy endings, no comedic reliefs, just a whole lot of questioning capitalist ideology.
So with that background, I’m sure you can see how shockingly harmful it would be if I got up in class and recited from memory the “10 Things I Hate About You” speech; It should be noted I can, it would just look bad. Even worse, I have nightmares of having to pull out my textbook on German expressionism, and accidentally grabbing my cheesy romance books. I have both seen the movie and read the novel “Crazy Rich Asians” multiple times.
But I have decided that I can no longer live a lie, so I am making this proclamation to the world, and by world I mean the back page of this newspaper my professors will never read. I love rom-coms. I love love, witty banter, and a bike riding montage through Central Park. I don’t care what anyone says, there’s nothing better than watching two hot people pretend to hate each other for an hour and a half.
Don’t get me started on the outfits. As a child, and to be honest now, my only goal was to have a closet like Elle Woods. And who can forget when Sandra Bullock saved Miss America wearing a statue of liberty costume? That was the first time I realized you could hide a firearm in a bodycon dress. But, my favorite look of all time is the yellow dress from “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.” The first time I saw that dress was a defining moment in my life, I nearly wrote my college essay about it.
Despite my admiration, I do have to note how creepy these films would be in real life. The plots mainly center around a guy trying to convince an uninterested girl that he’s “the one.” To any men reading, be warned. If I tell you I’m not interested and you appear outside my window with a boombox, I will turn on the sprinklers. And despite how much I love the biting humor of the enemies to lovers trope, if you appear at my sister’s wedding in Australia, and are not Glen Powell, I will pepper spray you.
Tragically my word count for this article is shockingly near, and I must disappear back into the world of desaturated colors and gut-wrenching endings. But to all the people out there who love to dream in glitter, flowers and confusingly expensive apartments for characters that are broke, I see you. Now my carriage is about to turn back into a pumpkin, but like Cameron Diaz in the “Holiday,” I will not let my reality keep me from running back to Jude Law, and in this context Jude Law is me sprinting out of my film classes to my computer where I can watch rom-coms to my heart’s content!
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