Nancy Meyers and Why Can’t Genre Films Be More Subversive?

During the recent past, I’ve watched for the first time and even re-watched some romcoms that I hadn’t thought much of before or had remembered fondly but couldn’t recall why or in one instance, freaking loved (“Trainwreck”). 

But what comes back to me over and again is that in terms of genres, the romantic comedy is the one that lends itself to the greatest possibility of subversion and yet, is most often the most cringe-inducing within the framework of the genre (the majority of works in the field tend to be formulaic and hacky to the point of amnesia, hence, why I vaguely remember most of them.) Exceptions abound, of course, and the definition of what precisely a romantic comedy is can be fairly broad.

For my purposes, a rom-com is set piece with two main protagonists who come together as a result of hopefully funny set-ups, break apart owing to miscommunication/differences in values or one farts in bed and the other doesn’t, but come back together – most of the time – owing to advice from supporting characters (the quirky best friends, the Greek Chorus of enablers, etc.) and conclude with our couple continuing their journey through life together forever. Amen.

I don’t hate romcoms. But I really don’t like lazy scripts, contrived pairings, or forced happiness.(1) Of genres, though, romcoms tend to be the ones that bore me the most when they hold to the pattern. I’m bored, they’re forgotten. Or they’re so incredibly, obtrusively bad, I cannot remove them from my memory hole (“Serendipity” and “Shallow Hal”, I’m looking at you).

Over the course of cinematic history, the romcom has had its masters, from 30s writers and directors (Lubitsch, Chaplin, Capra, and Kanin come to mind for directing; Hecht, Sam Raphaelson, Morrie Ryskind, and of course, Billy Wilder) in the early years to the more contemporary masters of the genre of today (Nancy Meyers, the late Nora Ephron, Judd Apatow, Paul Feig, Rob Reiner, and yes, Woody Allen). Most of the directors who have spent time in the genre have done work in others, but these are names that come readily to mind of people who have taken the tropes and made films that stretch, if not transcend the romcom genre. 

That said, I’d say Meyers’ works fill and occasionally exceed the genre’s limitations, as opposed to stretching or transcending them. She’s hit or miss and one of the reasons I want to look at “Something’s Gotta Give” is because it mostly hits. It also points up why I don’t run to seek out romantic comedies for themselves.

I recall avoiding the movie when it came out. I remember thinking I didn't need to see Nicholson doing a horndog fall and redemption arc with Keaton who I was pretty sure would be doing ditzy (which frustrates when I know what she's capable of). Welp. I was wrong. Nicholson turned in another one of his late period performances that reminds you that he really is an actor and Keaton rose to the occasion. This was the insightful, if a little shrill early on, and intelligent Keaton that brings it. They also pulled off the broader (and sometimes physical) comedy really well. Keanu Reeves brought compassion and measured depth to his role and Frances McDormand was great (as usual). Amanda Peet, playing Jack's girlfriend who hands him over to mom Diane K was the only person underserved. She really was a plot device more than a character, but Peet's so good, it doesn't really matter. 

Meyers knows what she's doing, and I realize she's working within a genre, but I can't help but feel she'd like to subvert it more. There's the penultimate scene in Paris where Nicholson realizes he's lost Keaton to Keanu and he's on "The Lovers Bridge" overlooking the Seine when he looks directly into the camera as it pulls away for a mid-shot and says, "See that? I'm the girl!" Holy shit, I almost peed. A) it was funny, B) it was perfectly meta and true and made the movie better than it was. I would have ended the film there with Nicholson strolling along the bridge into a fade out. But this is Hollywood and Meyers and of course, of course, Keaton shows up in a taxi, and tells Nicholson that Keanu says that she should go to him because she's still in love with him. Cut to family night out in a NY restaurant with Jack and Diane and Amanda and her husband and kid, and close.

I'm fine with that. It's a genre flick. There are conventions of the genre and the market, but I really prefer my version. 

Nicholson plays Harry Sanborn, a CEO of several companies - one of which is the second largest hip-hop label - who dates (much) younger women; Keaton plays Erica Barry, a leading playwriter. Harry is dating Amanda Peet’s Marin (Erica’s daughter) and we meet them en route to Erica’s house in the Hamptons for a weekend together. Harry and Erica decide to take a dip, Harry heads for the fridge to grab something and is found by Erica and her sister (the ever awesome Frances McDormand)as they come in from the side door to the kitchen. It’s quickly obvious that Harry’s dalliance is not viewed favorably by Erica, but all parties decide that they can make it through the weekend.

After the requisite, playful/mildly tense dinner scene, Harry has a heart attack, is rushed to the ER where Dr. Julien Mercer (Keanu Reeves) takes care of him. The contrivances come into play when the deal Mercer strikes with Harry is that Harry has to stay nearby if he won’t stay in the hospital. Naturally, he stays at Erica’s house. He and Erica overcome their differences, Marin recognizes that her mother and Harry are attracted to each other and exits the relationship. Before Harry and Erica have consummated their relationship, Dr. Mercer has made his intentions known to Erica that he finds her attractive and they have a dinner date.

Once given the all-clear, Harry returns to his life in the city and the parting between Erica and him is bittersweet, naturally. She writes their relationship into her latest play, he grows visibly dissatisfied with his lifestyle. She picks up with Mercer after standing him up for a date (Marin begs her to dinner to meet her ex-husband’s new fiancée.) At the restaurant, Erica sees Harry with a young woman and they have a botched discussion before she gets in a cab and takes off. 

Once Erica and Mercer get under way, her play goes into production. Harry comes in on a pre-rehearsal readthrough and he and Erica argue about what their relationship is/isn’t, get angry and part ways again.

The play opens, the character based on Harry is ill-fated but he takes it well enough. We see time has passed and he shows up at Marin’s apartment with a full beard to say hi and ask after Erica. Erica’s in Paris celebrating her birthday at a bistro she told Harry about. He shows up, they chat, but she’s not alone; Julien appears with a gift (a ring) and insists that Harry joint them. They part ways on the street and we come to the conclusion I recapped above.

Looking over this synopsis, there’s nothing terribly outstanding about the plot. It’s not terribly wacky, and the contrivances are few. The film works because of a stellar cast headed by two of the finest screen actors ever at their most charismatic and supporting turns by Reeves, McDormand, and yes, the underserved Peet. I also have to mention Jon Favreau as a similarly underserved PA to Harry and a remarkable Rachel Ticotin who holds the screen as a New York City ER doctor each time she has to deal with Harry’s panic attacks (he has two); she elevates the “wise doctor” giving life advice to the patient to move the character along his journey of self-discovery/redemption and she does it with one of those no BS performances that stick out so well you remember them for a long time to come.

The film also works because of a solid script that doesn’t trade on clever bon mots and more on two adults really talking. As in Meyers’ better work (“The Intern”, “Private Benjamin”, “The Parent Trap” come to mind), the dialog informs the characters but it leaves enough room for nuanced performances that bring out the inherent wit in the discrete scenes and the overall plot.

I’ve mentioned that I get the sense that Meyers wants to be more subversive and honestly, I wouldn’t have said so until I saw this. I do prefer my rewrite of the ending and I suspect that Meyers wouldn’t mind. Throughout “Something’s Gotta Give” there was a balanced tension between the choices Erica made. That she is her own agent is one of the glowing elements of the film; that she and Reeves’ Mercer actually have a genuine relationship is solidly demonstrated. Reeves turns in a committed and deeply felt performance here and it wouldn’t work otherwise. Neither character is a sap and that rests with Meyers’ script.

That said, Harry’s arc is less satisfying. In the six months between parting from Erica, he’s sold his businesses and taken time off to examine his issue with dating only considerably younger women. He goes about this by visiting ex-lovers and getting closure as a result. His meeting with Erica in Paris is obviously more than that (he was surely there for a rapprochement and hoped for a second chance vis à vis “closure”), but with Julien’s arrival, it is clear to Harry that this is a done deal and not in his favor. This struck me as less satisfying because it didn’t feel true to Harry’s character. While he was made out to be awkward in discussing Erica and his relationship, I had the sense that his character would have continued working it out with her. However, that would have made for a shorter, and far less satisfying movie.

Perhaps it was because we didn’t see him actually talk to any of those exes (Jim Jarmusch built an entire movie based on this conceit and showed how brilliantly it could work) that I was left feeling a little short-changed. But then, there’s that denouement. 

In another world would Meyers have gone with my ending? I doubt it, and more than likely, I’m projecting my sensibilities on a fairly mainstream creator. This isn’t to say that every romance needs to end like “Annie Hall’ or “The Umbrellas of Cherbourg”, but in this case, I just saw a potential for something like that bittersweet flavor to come through.

Romcoms, by their nature, can be more subversive, of course. “Zack and Miri Make a Porno” comes to mind. The aforementioned “Trainwreck” and one could argue that the best romcoms are by their nature subversive in the sense of playing with the meet-cute tropes and clichés and doing something novel with them. From “City Lights” to “Some Like it Hot” to “Silver Linings Playbook”, there are examples of what happens when romantic comedies bend those tropes to the point of breaking and when the comedy veers to near tragedy. Of course, I get it that many people who want to watch a romcom probably don’t want to have to work too hard to enjoy themselves. One could say that’s the argument for genre works across the board; you know what you’re getting, you enjoy the formula, and that’s it.

But there’s a world of difference between, say, “Midnight in Paris” and the execrable “I Hate Valentine’s Day”; one is a light-weight, imaginative fable and the other is utter trash, poorly written, directed and acted. You would be forgiven for thinking that the latter would be an edgy, witty look at a commercially constructed holiday and the former an arch, sad bundle of romantic twaddle. In the case of “Midnight in Paris”, all the notes are hit, its fey plot is fleshed out by on point performance, and if nothing else, Woody Allen on his worst day can still turn a phrase. Despite his regressive, misogynist (and sometimes, misanthropic) tendencies as a writer (let alone his much-publicized public life and pronouncements), he is a master craftsman. Nia Vardalos, bless her, not so much.

What is interesting to me, though, is that most romcoms don’t necessarily demand a lot of the viewer in terms of “working out” the piece. You don’t need to have seen or read “Cyrano de Bergerac” to enjoy “Roxanne.” It adds a certain dimension and, to be sure, Cyrano’s tale is well-known enough, but the point is that Steve Martin’s script pulls the viewer into it and along with it on its own. 

The question of subverting a convention is less of the moment than it used to be. We live in a world of homage, pastiche, and collage where signifiers like “genre” are becoming less defining than mere approximations of what to expect. Subversion doesn’t necessarily equate to well-executed or groundbreaking. It does point to surprising the viewer, but that can go either way. 

I think Meyers appeals to me because she can be formulaic and predictable, but she’s never lazy. “What Women Want” pissed me off and annoyed me, but it wasn’t lazily written (not crazy about the direction or the performances, though). When she’s on her game as here and the elements come together to reveal a completely satisfying work, it’s a joy, and/but because I see possibilities, I wonder if she’d ever consider taking that next step. 

Note

1. “contrived pairings, or forced happiness”: yeah, yeah, I know. These are two of the main romcom ingredients. My issue is that a lazy script won’t hide or overcome these two elements. Lord knows, they’re the collapse points of many a rickety structure.