The A.V. Club’s Valentine’s Day movie marathon
We've heard of opposites attracting before, but this is a bit much.
“Love,” Ewan McGregor manically speak-sings in Moulin Rouge, “is a many splendored thing.” Maybe. But more to the point, love, romance, and all of the warm-fuzzy Valentine’s Day trimmings are multifarious. It’s all splendorous, sure. But it’s also intoxicating, melancholic, and downright maddening. Love is like a benchmark test for human emotion, grinding you through highs and lows so pointed that, regardless of whether it blossoms like a beautiful love crocus or withers and dies on the vine, it ends up teaching you about who you are.
With this grueling view of love in mind, The A.V. Club has put together a 24-hour Valentine’s Day movie marathon. (It actually runs closer to 25-hours, including a minute pause between each film. Plus, if you’re like us, you’ll probably weep-nap through half of Titanic.) It’s designed to move you through all of love’s many splendors. And its many un-splendors.
From the fateful meet-cute of Harry and Sally to an inconsolable Hollywood hopeful blowing her brains out, the marathon gives a fairly accurate (and exhaustive) representation of love’s many moods. Which reminds us, we forgot In The Mood For Love. You can probably squeeze it in between Weekend and Ghost, if you want.
5:00 p.m. to 6:36 p.m.—When Harry Met Sally (Rob Reiner, 1989)
Starring Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan in the titular meet-cute, When Harry Met Sally is a strong piece of proof positive for people who say “men and women can’t be friends.” It also provides proof that the thrill of realizing you’re in love is enough to make anyone run through the streets of New York on New Year’s Eve—even if that moment comes after 12 years of getting to know someone and/or after an awkward one-night stand. Also: As long as someone has what Sally’s having, lunch dates are always a good bet.
6:37p.m to 8:36 p.m.—Pretty Woman (Garry Marshall, 1990)
Long before he started rounding up half of SAG into huge, sucking plot vortexes named after holidays, Garry Marshall could conjure focused, sweet stories when he directed movies, as in 1990’s Pretty Woman. Starring Richard Gere as a sensitive business guy and Julia Roberts in her breakout role as the hooker with the heart of gold, it’s a charming, palatable film that’s like the movie equivalent of ordering one milkshake with two straws. You and that special someone may as well just stare into each other’s eyes while you consume it.
8:37p.m. to 10:15 p.m.—Valley Girl (Martha Coolidge, 1983)
From an innocent neutral-turf beach flirtation to a first kiss in a bathroom at Valley girl Julie’s (Deborah Foreman) friend’s house, and a tour throughout punk Randy’s (Nicolas Cage) downtown-L.A. haunts, the adorably odd couple fall in love to one kickass soundtrack. Of course oversimplified stereotypes and peer pressure prompt drama and heartbreak; of course the ’80s are totally on full display; and of course Randy prevails amid many stunts to win Julie back.
10:16 p.m. to 12:16 a.m.—True Romance (Tony Scott, 1993)
There’s nothing more romantic (or stupider, but what’s romance but hormone-enhanced stupidity?) than falling in love with and marrying a woman within 24 hours of meeting her, despite the fact she’s a hooker your boss hired to cheer you up on your birthday. Then, how about upping the romance factor (and, again, the stupidity) by confronting her murderous pimp, killing him, and stealing (by accident, no less) a suitcase full of his cocaine, leading to a merry goose chase by mobsters and a farcical drug deal with a goofball movie exec. That’s True Romance and, despite all of the violence and drug shenanigans, it’s a pretty remarkable chronicle of the giddy, breakneck rush of life-altering (bad) decisions we all make in the throes of, well, true romance.
12:17 a.m. to 1:53 a.m.—Weekend (Andrew Haigh, 2011)
Most of us have had a one-night stand or two. But what about when the sloppy-drunk hookup turns into coffee, breakfast, and then blossoms into something else entirely? The film unfolds in the blush of the fateful few days after a shy-ish lifeguard (Tom Cullen) and brash would-be artist (Chris New) fall into bed together after meeting at a Nottingham gay bar. Weekend is a sophisticated study in how lust can suddenly ripen into love, and how legit romance often sprouts up where and when you least expect it. It can be magnificent. But it can also be really, really inconvenient.
1:54 a.m. to 4:00 a.m.—Ghost (Jerry Zucker, 1990)
It’s the film that introduced “Unchained Melody” to a new generation of ghost-loving amateur potters. Starring Patrick Swayze as a banker-cum-corpse-cum-ghost and Demi Moore as his as his grieving, non-ghost wife, Jerry Zucker’s romantic fantasia proves that love transcends life and death, ghostliness and non-ghostliness. Yes, love can brave the passing of a lover, and even help solve an embezzling scandal, and even brave the hounds of hell. But the catch is that sometimes your lover will be a magical ghost.
4:01 a.m. to 7:15 a.m.—Titanic (James Cameron, 1997)
In Titanic, Jack and Rose (Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet) show that great young loves stay with their survivors forever. This is true even when the relationship ends poorly—for example, if one partner must move on for unavoidable reasons or freezes to death in the icy waters of the Atlantic. If, like Rose, a romance gives you the confidence to fulfill your dreams of flying airplanes and riding horses in America, you can do so regardless of whether the relationship sinks like a ship.
7:16 a.m. to 9:05 a.m.—Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind (Michel Gondry, 2004)
Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet star as an unlikely couple who connect despite a lack of the usual whirlwind movie romance. It ends badly, and they decide to have the memories of each other erased. But during the bizarre procedure, Carrey regains an awareness of their love, however lackluster, and attempts to stop it. They meet again—in Montauk—and despite knowing he will begin to dislike her and she will feel bored and trapped by him—they decide, eh, why not? Perhaps a few sweet moments are worth as many bitter ones.
9:06 a.m. to 11:15 a.m.—Last Tango In Paris (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1972)
Starring Marlon Brando and Maria Schneider as two lovers indulging an anonymous, no-holds-barred Parisian tryst, Last Tango In Paris proved how intense romance (and buttered-up anal sex) can be. It also proved that these kinds of consuming passions often lead to complications, and can end up getting you shot dead on a balcony. Consider yourself warned.
11:16 a.m. to 1:30 p.m.—Brokeback Mountain (Ang Lee, 2005)
Any inherent value or romance in Brokeback Mountain may have been eclipsed by its double distinction as both an Important Issues Movie and, more pejoratively, “the gay cowboy movie.” It’s a bit of a shame, because Brokeback Mountain remains a deeply melancholic picture about love stymied by the strictures of society. For all its puffed-up status, it’s still totally heartbreaking.
1:31 p.m. to 3:23 p.m.—Blue Valentine (Derek Cianfrance, 2010)
Derek Cianfrance’s 2010 drama, Blue Valentine, holds plenty of tender moments. Unfortunately, those exist mainly to sharply contrast how crushingly bleak things have become for the married couple bravely portrayed by Michelle Williams and Ryan Gosling. Aside from spreading a mild case of wanting to stay in a spaceship-themed hotel room, this exquisite, painful film will most likely be ripping your guts out and squeezing every tear from your eyes. It’s a must-see; just don’t expect to feel great afterward.
3:24 p.m. to 5:51 p.m.—Mulholland Drive (David Lynch, 2001)
Originally conceived as TV pilot, David Lynch’s brooding Mulholland Drive centers around a plucky aspiring starlet (Naomi Watts) and a mysterious woman (Laura Elena Harring) who go all Nancy Drew on the seedy side of Los Angeles. ABC dropped the pilot, forcing Lynch turn it into a feature film and retcon the story into one of a failed actress whose female lover turns cold after hitting it big in show biz. (Don’t you hate it when your friends become successful?) In this final form, Mulholland Drive is a bitter romantic pill to swallow, and contains all the hallmarks of a doomed relationship: jealously, betrayal, angry masturbating, and a rotting corpse.
