newcritics

Hello, yeah, it’s been a while…

Since I’ve been distracted by politics over at my place, and because I didn’t want to inflict a simple review of Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay on you (now, a comprehensive analysis of the Stoner Comedy, maybe… but I haven’t had the time), I’ve been a little out of the loop on the arts beat.

But let me try to get back there, by discussing the sorry state of the Romantic Comedy.

Everybody’s got a theory about what’s wrong with the Rom-Com these days (first idea: calling them Rom-Coms), but it probably comes down to the basics: poor scripts, weak direction, and lack of star power. Though another, probably just as useful theory is economics: given the demands of making big money on pictures that open big, it’s hard to invest the smaller, audience building crowd pleaser.

Myself, while I believe in all those business-based observations, I think it’s also about the films themselves, which have skewed a traditional, winning formula beyond recognition; where these films used to be about couples, and the interplay between two individuals, these days, oversimplification (and some darker social trends) have led to a result that’s killing romance on film: the overarching need to snag a hot guy.

This week, one need not look further than Made of Honor, which drifts into theaters, just as its stars return to their TV day jobs - Patrick Dempsey, resuming hunk status on Grey’s Anatomy (which has been more about Patrick’s anatomy… but never mind), and Michelle Monaghan, pursuing far more daring adventures on Lost than anything here.

There’s a lot of this in romantic comedies these days - not just Dempsey (who also headlined Enchanted this winter), but a string of “TV talent” trying to make the switch to the big time of feature films. Since they tend not to overtax budgets, TV stars make great choices for these things, even though they rarely have the star quality for the big screen (but then, who does, these days). Where the feature film romances used to all star Meg Ryan (or possibly Julia Roberts), now there’s a string of (usually colorless) starlets taking up the slack.

One reason for that may well be the mutating of the genre into “Chick Flicks” a two word term for which I carry unending loathing. Rarely has Hollywood shorthand been more demeaning or, I’d argue, business injuring. By reducing films aimed primarily at female audiences to this charmless sobriquet, evIn the old dayserything has been dumbed down… and nothing more so than the role of women within them.

In the past, Women’s Pictures denoted films driven by their female stars. At the height of the Golden Age, female stars served as top draws in pictures at nearly every studio. The studios actively groomed women for these roles, and the stars were, usually, more powerful and bigger draws than the men they worked with (Clark Gable, for one, openly chafed at casting that reduced him to secondary statusin these pictures). That reality carried on well after World War II such that even though roles for women became far less interesting, female stars were still expected to serve as the primary draw. It’s worth remembering that, at the time, Doris Day was the #1 Box Office star in America, compared to co-star Rock Hudson, himself something of a male starlet, when they did their string of romantic comedies in the sixties (indeed, one can look at Down With Love and realize the structural problems, when Renee Zellwegger and Ewan MacGregor are essentially equal in star power).

It may be - and I’m really just guessing here - that part of the problem in the past ten years is Ryan: the enormity of Meg Ryan’s success as the top draw in “chick flicks” made it hard, I think, to develop others to follow. One could say the same of Julia Roberts, but I’d argue Roberts was never pegged as quite the Romantic Comedy star Ryan was; Roberts has shown tremendous versatility across a variety of genres, where Ryan has struggled to succeed at almost anything outside of romantic roles. But unlike almost any other genre, the romantic comedy is generally quite age specific - these are tales of young couples, in their mid twenties to early thirties, and Ryan aged out of it in the mid-nineties (to be generous; her last couple of “chick flicks” were, as such things do, stretching things).

What’s followed has not been much to write home about; while there have been some bright spots and a few sleepers, almost no one - except possibly Reese Witherspoon - has shown real strength carrying romantic comedies. And many have tried. There’s also no denying that the wholesale adoption of pushing heightened male beauty has up-ended the traditional calculus: since the eighties, increased sexual objectification of men (a function both of women gaining some measure of sexual freedom, and an increased visibility of gay culture) has takes even Hollywood’s usual emphasis on male attractiveness to new levels.

And it’s bred a new kind of male star, one whose “softer side” (and harder body) becomes central to the new approach to romantic comedy. In one sense this is a progressive step: films have begun to emphasize emotional development in male roles as never before. But much of the progress has come at the expense of balanced scripts with good roles for strong actresses. And, as a result, the “woman’s picture” has become a “chick flick”: where an objectified man’s choice of a suitable woman becomes the most paramount plot development (often told, backwards, as if the girl has a choice, which she rarely does).

Thus we have, Made of Honor: a film where a longtime Lothario (Dempsey), wises up and realizes his closest female friend (Monaghan) is actually the girl he wants to marry, only he’s too late - she’s found love in the arms of a Scottish Duke, and she wants her best friend to be her “Maid of Honor.” Charming, gender role based humor ensues… until the nice girl wises up and realizes that instead of Prince Charming, what she really wants is… Prince Charming.

It’s hard to describe the combination of slapdash scriptwriting that passes for character development (Dempsey’s character gets to show warmth… by petting dogs, basically), along with the morality free evaluation of men’s behavior (you essentially need a charmer like Dempsey in the guy part, because without him the promiscuous emotionless bastard he plays would be… well, a heartless cold bastard only after One Thing). Monaghan and Dempsey have minimal chemistry, but it’s easier to fault Monaghan: her character is tremendously underwritten, and she lacks the presence that’s needed to make the part memorable. But the flick is Dempsey’s anyway, yet another, for him, in a string of aging stud parts that are equal combinations of puppy-like gazes and sexy come-on. If it could work for George Clooney (not to mention Matthew McConaughey), why not Dempsey, too?

It could, but it hasn’t yet; like Enchanted, Dempsey’s films seem to live and die on his appealing charm and wholesome sexiness; it’s nice (no, really, I get it, he’s got star appeal)… but it can’t really carry a picture by itself. And as a result, he still seems more small box TV star on hiatus, than a big screen leading man slumming on TV.

But mostly, I found myself after Made of Honor lamenting the dearth of female roles, and by extension, female stars. And lest we give too much credit to the upcoming big screen transfer of Sex and The City, it too will be all about TV stars (admittedly big time cable stars, but still) playing up to attractive men (Chris Noth, too, surely fits the “aging stud” demo of Clooney, Dempsey, et al). I wish it were more than that. I do. I niss the fun, I miss the romance… I miss the strong women. I bet Prince Charming does, too.