Review
Culture
Film & TV
Romance
8 min read

Meet our top 5 rom coms for Valentine's Day

Love is the core of every truly good sweeping story.
A couple sit at a table in a diner talking intensely.
Castle Rocl.

1. The Apartment

Billy Wilder’s directorial tour-de-force is a timeless classic – proof for the sceptical that black-and-white films lose nothing in their monotone. Comedy legend Jack Lemmon plays C.C. "Bud" Baxter, an office worker who desperately seeks preferment. He impresses his superiors by allowing them to use his Upper West Side apartment to entertain their mistresses away from the gaze of their wives. He is also desperately seeking love, in the person of elevator operator Fran Kubelik. The only problem is that she is spoken for – she is the mistress of the big boss. Baxter juggles his ‘apartment schedule’, the disapproval of his neighbours, and his sorrow at seeing Fran slip away. 

The script is the perfect combination of laughs and smiles. The performances are excellent, especially Lemmon’s balletic physical comedy (the spaghetti strained through a tennis racket scene stays with me like an old friend). The message is important: love hurts. The film resonates just as much now, in our world of HR and workplace boundaries, as it did then. Baxter, and ESPECIALLY Fran, are victims of those with power; except they don’t use violence or coercion to exert their control, they use the promise of acceptance, of love. Love is not a trifling emotion, as some of the most vapid frippery of Valentine’s Day may suggest, but the deepest motivation a human being can have – look at what Jesus does out of love. It is a dangerous thing when treated as instrumental and disposable, and can yield terrible and tragic results if abused. Thankfully, The Apartment ends on a note of hope and expectation…but it really has you on the edge-of-your-seat up until the end, and gives you and new appreciation for the sanctity of romance and love.  

2. Notting Hill

We had to have a Richard Curtis pic – I’m a patriot after all! Naturally Four Weddings is excluded because of that one…appalling…unforgivable line…OF COURSE ANDIE MACDOWELL NOTICED THAT IT WAS RAINING! 

Anyway. Notting Hill is such a lovely and gentle film. Hugh Grant is effortless as divorced and timid bookseller William Thacker. His life is comfortable yet a little empty, with his only real company being his unspeakable lodger Spike – Rhys Ifans in a career-defining role. His life is turned upside-down when Hollywood superstar Anna Scott (Julia Roberts) enters his shop, leaves, and then has him spill orange juice all down her front. Romance develops between the two but is continually stalled by the very different worlds they inhabit: Thacker lives a quiet life in Notting Hill, and Scott is a globe-trotting paparazzi-magnet who cannot seem to keep any aspect of her stage-managed life private. I won’t go into anymore of the plot, as you’ll know it even if you haven’t seen the film…it’s a National Treasure by now. 

The wonderful message of this film, other than London property prices were ludicrously generous back in the day, is that love is a feeling and a force that can cross any boundaries. This is a modern-day quasi-Romeo and Juliet: two people from seemingly incompatible worlds allowing their love to break down barriers and overcome obstacles…except here we have a happy ending! Love is the greatest leveller this world knows (there is no Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, man nor woman) – it is the equaliser of the human experience and fount of understanding, empathy, and mercy. 

3. Knocked Up

I’m afraid we move to less elevated fare and instead begin the descent into puerility. One can expect nothing less from director Judd Apatow, who has made his name by combining the compulsory schmaltz of a rom com with the sweary gross-out humour of our less-civilised age. Nevertheless, this film has real merit.  

Katherine Heigl is Allison Scott, an ambitious reporter for an entertainment news channel. She goes out to celebrate her well-earned promotion, has a little (or a lot-tle) too much to drink, and ends up having a one-night stand with aspiring internet celebrity pornographer Ben Stone (Seth Rogen). Their dalliance leads to the inevitable – pregnancy. Allison finds herself in the invidious position of having dinner with Ben, to inform him of her maternal state, only to realise that she finds him repulsive. He is everything she isn’t: she is ambitious, organised, and stable, while his greatest achievement is a collection of bongs and a potential website detailing moments of on-screen nudity. They are chalk-and-cheese…and yet they both decide to try and make their lives compatible to raise their child together. 

It's not a clever film, and the laughs are all guilty guffaws at over-the-top toilet humour, but it does have heart. It is the story of two people who don’t find love in a glance across a crowded room, or through a shared interest, but through a shared struggle. It is the story of two people who learn through difficulty, pain, and self-sacrifice what it means to live for another; even if that other person is yet to be born. At the centre of this film – after digging through tranches of (apparently hilarious) excrement – is the message that love is not instantaneous or easy, but something that is worked towards and maintained through giving up one’s own wants and pleasures for the good of another. I wonder which two-thousand-year-old story embodies this theme? 

4. The Princess Bride

The phrase ‘cult-classic’ might as well have been invented to describe this film. It is a mad-cap tale incorporating piracy, palace intrigue, and a giant. I…I…I can’t even try to give a plot synopsis. It goes all over the place, as if it where story-boarded by an over-imaginative seven-year-old who’s been given a surfeit of sugar (sorry William Goldman). The humour, essential for the ‘com’ to the ‘rom’, is more-often-than-not accidental, but humour there is in spades. Its silly, and its sweet, and its certifiable…but it works. 

What puts The Princess Bride in my Top 5 is the epic sweep of the film. I’m pretty certain it didn’t intend to be a rom com, but I count it as one, and so it is the only rom com that manages to also be a mythopoetic tale. Perhaps Shrek is in the same league…but I can’t forgive the sequels and the overuse of Eddie Murphy. The Princess Bride is a wonderful reminder that love is a great, epic, poetic, mythic, legendary force in the world. Love has started and ended wars, it has rewritten the tablet of history over and over again, and is not a ‘story’ that can be confined to a ‘meet-cute’ between two unreasonably attractive people in a New York coffee shop – it is the very language of reality, and so is the lens through which we must view not only ourselves and our immediate loved ones, but the whole of the universe and the whole of human history. Love is the core of every truly good sweeping story – especially that story that begins with the loving creation of heaven and earth, their salvation in the love of the Cross, and their reconstitution as the New Heaven and New Earth where love of God is the primary vocation of all. 

AAAAAND…it starts and ends with Peter Falk as a grandfather lovingly telling this story to his sick grandson…the heart melts… 

5. When Harry Met Sally…

In the kingdom of rom-coms Nora Ephron is the Empress to whom all others bow, and this is her greatest conquest! When Harry Met Sally… is epic in its sweep, but in a very different way to The Princess Bride. It is epic in that it is a love story that takes over a decade to play out. Harry Burns (Billy Crystal) and Sally Albright (Meg Ryan) meet by chance in 1977. Serendipity is at work: he is dating her best friend, and so, as a matter of convenience, the two share a car to journey from Chicago to New York. As in many rom coms their personalities couldn’t be more different, and although they share chemistry, Sally chafes at Harry’s confident assertion that men and women cannot be friends. The journey ends unhappily, and the two have no intention of every meeting again. 

Five years pass and the pair find themselves on the same flight. Serendipity strike again when Harry learns that Sally is dating his neighbour. The chemistry is sparking reactions, but when Harry suggests they become friends Sally declines, citing his previous assertion about male/female friendship. 

Another five years pass – and so a serendipitous meeting is in the diary – and there is a chance meeting in a bookshop. Both are now single and have faced the sting of love lost. They strike up a friendship. The friendship matures and deepens, and those around them can see that they are falling in love, yet their determination to be friends leads them to have romantic attachments to other people. This falls apart after a night of high-emotion and comfort turns into amorous passion. Their friendship is seemingly ruined, and both miserably start to live like without the other. 

UNTIL… 

On New Year’s Eve 1988 Harry realises that he cannot be whole or happy without Sally and runs to find her at a party, to declare his love for her in the greatest speech in rom-com history! The cinema cheers! What makes When Harry Met Sally… dear to my heart is that seeming serendipity I keep mentioning, because it teaches us a vital lesson about love. There is no true chance, no true serendipity in love. Love is the very glue that binds all creation together. The Scriptures, the great mystics of the faith, the very person of Jesus Christ, teach us that God is love and that this love is all and is in all. There is no coincidence in love – love really is what makes the world go round. In the end, just as Harry and Sally seemed destined to be together, we are destined to be united with God in love. 

I started this list a little sceptical and burnt-out with the romance of Valentine’s Day. Having reengaged with these five films I am revivified and reconverted to the great name of love. Love drives us, heals us, and ultimately embraces us in eternity. What a wonderful legacy for St Valentine to have.

Join with us - Behind the Seen

Seen & Unseen is free for everyone and is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you’re enjoying Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

Alongside other benefits (book discounts etc.), you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing what I’m reading and my reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin

Editor-in-Chief

Article
Culture
Film & TV
Trauma
Work
5 min read

What would Pascal make of Emmy-winner Severance?

Locking ourselves away in a room still doesn’t work

Rick writes and speaks on leadership, transformation, and culture.

Pascal ponders a steampunk TV showing Severance.
Nick Jones/Copilot.

Severance, the hit Apple TV series, garnered the most Emmy nominations at the star-studded 77th Emmy Awards. Colors and fame popped on the vibrant red carpet as Hollywood’s elite strolled along the walkway, exuding famous smiles, elegant evening wear, and their signature flair.  

It was strikingly ironic, however, to see the Severance actors in such formal attire, ripe with ready-made smiles. Their presence was, well, very Hollywood. This contrasted sharply with their on-screen characters, who are typically set against a dark, desolate backdrop of despair, compelled to force smiles as if it were an immense burden on their very souls.   

The stark contrast between the opulent Hollywood red carpet and the sterile, bland workspace Severance is set in underscores a core theme in the show: the tension between faith and doubt, belief and despair, light and darkness. 

In the show, the main character Mark S. grapples with the challenge of navigating his own tension in his own calibrated nightmare of hope and despair. He has to cope with the sudden loss of his wife, and it's suffocating him.  

His company, Lumon, helps him deal with this loss through a surgical procedure called Severance. This procedure implants a chip in his brain that creates two separate identities: an "Innie" for work and an "Outie" for home. These two co-existing selves are emotionally, physically, and psychologically unaware of each other, essentially severing the person's whole self into two pieces. Whatever they are trying to bury or escape, becoming “severed” keeps the person’s “Innie” from dealing with this delicate paradox of the “Outie”. In short, they don’t have to choose the light or the dark.  

For Mark S., severance offers a thin thread of disguised hope, a potential breach in his unbearable pain. 

In his Pensées, French philosopher Blaise Pascal explores this intrinsic human tension between faith and doubt, belief and despair - a fundamental aspect of the human experience. He says, "In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don’t."   

He posits that the evidence between the light and the shadow is just enough to sway us in one direction or the other. It’s calibrated on either side allowing us to lean into our personal autonomy. We are free to choose the hope of the light or succumb to the despair of the darkness; the outcome depends entirely on what we choose.  

Leaning into Pascal, the act of severance relieves Mark S. of this beautiful yet complicated tension.  

A review on Reddit said it simply, “Severing allows Mark to just literally shut his brain off, get the work done, then go home and distract himself with TV and alcohol... he doesn’t want to let it go.”  

It’s real pain and he doesn’t know how to manage it. The shadows are pervasive. However, by choosing severance, Mark avoids the light and the shadows. The more he relies on severance for hope or healing by attempting to bury the shadows, the more the shadows intensify - the shadows Pascal says will blind us in our disbelief.   

The battle that Mark S. faces embodies the very tension that Pascal is surfacing. This tension of choosing the light or the shadows is something we all must face.  

We all carry shadows wrapped in our own circumstances. I think many of us would likely prefer to avoid confronting them. They are painful. They are dark. They are heavy. In truth, if we had the choice I think many of us would likely choose an escape instead of dealing with the darkness, with the secrets and the pain that hide in our souls.  

For example, many of us show up to work or to life like Mark S. in some version of our “Innie” - a professional face of compliance, rule following, corporate persona, goal oriented, etc. and leave the version of our “Outie” at home alone and isolated to wrestle with our demons, with our painful, confusing questions. We curate our internal messiness and disguise ourselves with our own “Innie”. 

For some, our day job is an actual version of a self-imposed severance.  

I wish this tension between the light and shadows Pascal speaks of was less “tense” to say it plainly, and yet it is an inherent, essential part of the human experience.  

This faith that both we and Mark S. wrestle with, by its very nature, lacks complete clarity; this tension is, in fact, a testament to this profound mystery of life itself. It's the wonder of life. There’s just enough data for us to lean into the light and also just as much for us to lean into the shadows. What we see depends on what we choose to believe in.  

This tension is similarly addressed in the Biblical book of Hebrews. It highlights Pascal's subtle paradox and defines faith as "the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."  

The freedom to choose “the substance of things hoped for”, this inherent tension of Pascal, is the true marvel and mystery of life. It’s both messy and wonderful.  

Our capacity for choice, to engage with the light and shadows and to lean into one over the other as we wish is a profound gift.  

While some find this very tension a reason for disbelief, Pascal tugs on this and says it's actually fundamental to belief, it's a wonderful component of the human condition - a true gift. It hints at the very essence of hope. It’s the same process we must engage when choosing to believe in or not to believe in something beyond our selves, and ultimately beyond this world.  

This struggle, the shadows of pain and suffering and the light of hope and belief is precisely what makes us alive; it’s what makes us human. It points us to the heavens where hope and faith were authored.  

The question isn’t whether we have an “Innie” or an “Outie”, a tension of light and darkness, of faith and doubt. We all do. We all wrestle with this essence. The question is do we have the courage to wrestle with these internal conflicts, enabling us to bring our whole selves - our flaws and pains, our joys and hopes  - into every interaction. 

This tension Pascal speaks of is ultimately a mirror that shows us, us. We are all tempted to numb our pain, divide ourselves, to compartmentalize the shadows. But Pascal reminds us there is always enough light to see, if we choose it.

Support Seen & Unseen

Since Spring 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,500 articles. All for free. 
This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
 
Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief