Show Time: What Makes a Romcom Good?

I’m a little ashamed to admit that I’ve been watching a lot of romcoms recently. I say ‘ashamed’ mostly because the genre as a whole has a reputation of dumbing-down human relations into “desperate woman and loser man stumble into romantic relationship” or some version of same. Women like me are often given a pass for watching romcoms because the genre is seen as ‘wish fulfillment’ (and for some reason, action/superhero movies aren’t *eyeroll*)… But even then, intelligent women often have to explain away their favorite movies as a ‘guilty pleasure.’

Well, fuck guilty pleasures and fuck wish fulfillment.

I like romcoms!

It may be a frowned-upon genre, but every year, millions of people — women AND men — sit down and watch these movies. So, the question is: why can’t they be good? Why, time after time, does Hollywood feed us the same formulaic bullshit and simply switch around the actors, the setting and the minor details, and present it to us in the guise of a new movie? Granted, all genres are starting to see this, with the superhero genre being a timely example, but I don’t want to waste my time watching shitty romcoms, or shitty movies in general. Maybe the reason the genre is frowned upon isn’t because the genre is bad, but because so many of the movies in it ARE.

Romcoms can trace their ‘lineage,’ so to speak, back to Shakespeare and his contemporaries, when confused identities and coincidental mix-ups were the impetus of much — if not all — of the hi-jinks that ensued. So, why is it socially acceptable for me to enjoy a production of Twelfth Night, but not She’s The Man?

Of course, now, many of the typical elements of romcoms are written off as too far-fetched or too contrived. Yes, a woman who waters a former pop star’s plants being secretly talented at writing song lyrics is far-fetched, but a whiny teen gaining the powers of the gods when he literally did nothing to prove himself isn’t? (Can you tell that I’m still underwhelmed by Shazam?) Yes, film is an art form. But, it’s also a form of entertainment. Unless it’s based on a true story or true events, it’s meant for escapism.

Anyway, as I was watching all these movies over the last week or so, I started to ask myself: What should I be looking for in a romcom? What makes one romcom good from another?

On the 2018 Filmsplosion episode, Henry and I were discussing how in 2018, we started to see a revival in the romcom genre. We got Crazy Rich Asians, which did exceptionally well at the box office; Set It Up, which was an enjoyable Netflix movie; and Juliet, Naked, which didn’t have a big opening but was generally well-received by those who saw it.

Now, setting aside your high school/coming-of-age comedies like Booksmart and To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, I would say that the upper tier of romcoms from from the last 20 years include, but are not limited to: The Big Sick; Crazy Rich Asians; Juliet, Naked; The Switch; Definitely, Maybe; The Decoy Bride; Always Be My Maybe; Music & Lyrics; My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding; and Bridesmaids. That isn’t to say any of them is perfect, but I think each has something about them that makes them compelling as a entry in the romcom genre.

And, in my opinion, lesser romcoms, which I’ll bring up in the post as examples of ‘what not to do,’ include: The Proposal, How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days, Made of Honor, and The Ugly Truth.

(NOTE: Spoilers ahead for all these films.)

So, getting back to our initial question of “What Makes a Romcom Good?”, I would say it’s some combination of the following:

THE TWO LEADS HAVE CHEMISTRY

One of the reasons I absolutely love Juliet, Naked is because you’re actively rooting for these two people to wind up together. It’s not just because they’re attractive. It’s not just because they like each other. It’s because they fit so well in each other’s lives. Annie desperately wants to have children and is stuck in a relationship where her partner doesn’t feel the same way; Tucker has so many children that he’s not active in each of their lives, and he’s learning to live with the mistakes he’s made and rectify them as best he can. Annie wants to leave her little town, be more adventurous and grow as a person outside her relationship with Duncan. Tucker, meanwhile, wants more normalcy and a healthy relationship after having so many unsuccessful ones in his rock-star days. Not only that, but they have great on-screen chemistry, and their scenes together are filled with a genuine earnestness that’s almost tangible.

Compare that to the nonsense in How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days where the two leads are actively trying to deceive and/or make the other miserable. Or, in The Proposal, where Ryan Reynolds’ character never really seems to get away from the ‘she’s my boss’ dynamic. His romantic scenes with Sandra Bullock’s character always come off as more awkward than anything, because he’s actively hated her and been her subordinate for so long that for them to suddenly be equals in a loving relationship feels jarring.

THE SIDE CHARACTERS ARE ENGAGING

While the movie definitely has its flaws, I always enjoyed Tula’s extensive family in My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding. Coming from a large and very … uh… vocal family myself, I always sympathized with her character because she feels trapped by her family but also supported by them. Her mom and her dad feel like distinct characters with a few running gags of their own; her grandma is hilarious in how she continually tries to escape; her aunts, uncles and cousins have brief but very memorable appearances. And, even her husband’s parents are interesting in their contrasting blandness and more conservative personalities.

Crazy Rich Asians and Bridesmaids also benefit from their all-star supporting casts, whose characters bring their individual flares without being too cliche or over-the-top.

Meanwhile, The Ugly Truth, for instance, has a pretty bland supporting cast. We have our two leads and maybe one or two other people. That’s it. And, honestly, half the time the people are just there to either be plot devices (like the cute doctor Katherine Heigl’s character is trying to date and Gerard Butler’s character’s family) or the main characters’ respective best friends, who are really only sounding boards for the main characters’ feelings.

IT USES TROPES APPROPRIATELY

This is perhaps the one that gets onto my nerves the most when it comes to the quality of romcoms. As I said on the 2018 Filmsplosion episode, I cannot stand the “Liar Revealed” trope. Unfortunately, many romcoms rely on this. It was one of the reasons why I didn’t like Set It Up as much as I liked Juliet, Naked, even though they came out only months apart. The best romcoms, in my opinion, do not use this trope. Basically none of the movies that I had in my list of upper-tier romcoms have the trope to their fullest extent.

Crazy Rich Asians arguably has it, as it’s revealed that Rachel’s mom lied about Rachel’s dad and why she had to leave China, but it’s not like Rachel knew any of that and was actively trying to hide it from her boyfriend and his family. In The Switch, Jason Bateman’s character initially didn’t remember dumping out the sperm donor’s sample and putting in his own sample instead. He had been blackout-drunk that night, and it’s only once he meets his son, Sebastian, that he realizes what he did, and he tries to own up to it. And, for The Decoy Bride, Katie is roped into standing in for James’ celebrity fiancee, but he quickly realizes what’s happened. She deceives him about her identity — and only after she was paid by others to do so — for all of five minutes. They spend 95 percent of the movie with full knowledge of who the other person is.

I believe the “Liar Revealed” trope has its place. Hell, some of Shakespeare’s comedies rely on characters purposefully deceiving each other. But, usually they aren’t coupled with the “Third-Act Misunderstanding” trope, which I also absolutely hate, especially because it’s often coupled with “Liar Revealed.” For instance, in Twelfth Night, once it’s revealed that Cesario is actually a woman named Viola neither Olivia nor Orsino — who were the main victims in Viola’s deception to dress as a man — really care. In fact, it prompts Orsino to realize his true feelings for Olivia and propose to her. We don’t have a contrived scene where Orsino says something to the effect of “You lied to me; I can never trust you again!” Likewise, in Much Ado About Nothing, the bad guy’s deceptions are revealed, no one cares that Hero faked her death, and no one ever reveals to Beatrice and Benedick that they were actually set up by their friends and family. No one really cares about all the deception. Either no one ever tells them, or they’re relieved about it, not upset.

Of course, with The Proposal and How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days, the entire premise inevitably sets up the Liar Revealed trope, and of course we have the Third-Act Misunderstanding to really make things boring and trite. The reason the tropes, especially the Third-Act Misunderstanding, don’t work is because they’re so overdone and literally add nothing to the story. Because of the nature of the genre, there’s a 99 percent chance our romantic leads are going to end up together (My Best Friend’s Wedding is the one exception I can think of)… so, when they have their inevitable fallout once the full truth comes out, it only wastes our time because we know they’re going to get together. And, many times, because of the Third-Act Misunderstanding, one of the leads realizes that they belong together, and so usually does some Grand Romantic Gesture to get the other person back, like Matthew McConaughey’s character racing all over NYC to try to Andi back with their plant on the back of his motorcycle-thing or like Ryan Reynolds’ character making a big speech in the office and then kissing Sandra Bullock’s character in front of everyone.

But, tropes have their place. Sometimes, they’re subverted, which I often enjoy. Sometimes they’re used predictably but appropriately, such as in The Decoy Bride, when James dedicates his new book to Katie, calling her his wife and referencing a sad line she said earlier in the movie. Or in Always Be My Maybe, where the two do have a third-act breakup but it’s because of their different lifestyles not because one of them was deceiving the other. Same thing in Music & Lyrics, which also has a third-act breakup AND a big, romantic gesture, but it plays better because their relationship beforehand had at least been honest.

Basically, if your romantic comedy has the Liar Revealed trope and the Third-Act Misunderstanding, it’s a recipe for disaster.

Of course, there are plenty of other tropes out there, like the whole ‘evil in-laws’ thing. In My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding, Tula is understandably nervous about introducing her fiance to her family, because they’re not super excited that he isn’t Greek and he might be overwhelmed by how boisterous her family is. But, they eventually warm up to her fiance, and support her decision to marry him; and he, meanwhile, enjoys how energetic and lively her family is and even converts to the Greek Orthodox Church because it’s important to her.

Similarly, in Crazy Rich Asians, Eleanor is definitely wary of Rachel. But, it’s expressed several times in the film that this isn’t only an instance of an overprotecting mother not liking her son’s girlfriend — it’s mostly because Rachel is American (even though she’s of Chinese descent) and thus doesn’t share the same values or cultural priorities that Eleanor would want Nick’s future wife to have.

Ultimately a successful relationship in real life is based on honesty and communication, and relationships in our entertainment should reflect that to some degree. But, when romcoms show characters seemingly being rewarded with the guy or gal, despite their deception or other flaws, it only weakens the genre and gives young, impressionable people the wrong ideas about love and relationships.

IT BRINGS SOMETHING NEW TO THE TABLE

As I said on the 2018 Filmsplosion episode, one of the reasons I loved Crazy Rich Asians was that the location, the set pieces, and the immersion of the movie into Asian cultures really helped it stand out. Instead of New York City, where seemingly 90 percent of all romcoms take place, the bulk of the film is in Singapore. Instead of your typical pop songs and alt rock ballads, the soundtrack only has songs in Asian languages (including some covers of notable English-language pop songs, admittedly).

Bridesmaids also brought something different to the table as the bulk of the film focuses on a group of female friends trying to navigate the complicated world of planning a wedding. Kristin Wiig’s character’s love life, particularly her thing with Chris O’Dowd’s character, is more of a subplot than anything.

The Big Sick, while I classify it here as a romcom, has a lot of dramatic, almost dark-comedy elements to it, especially once Emily falls into a coma.

Definitely, Maybe plays on the ‘how I met your mother’ storyline, but it bookends the whole thing with Ryan Reynolds’ character telling the story to his daughter, giving us hints at what all is going to happen. For instance, we know he was in two serious relationships before he married his future wife, and we’ve seen his daughter, so we maybe get some hints as to what her mom might look like. And, it gives a reason for his obscuring his wife’s name, as he wants his daughter to encounter her mom organically through the story, as he did, instead of already knowing who she was from the outset.

Music & Lyrics has several musical numbers, which most of which Hugh Grant sings himself, and several of which are very catchy and actually good songs. Still, it never really feels like a classical musical, because the music’s presence is central to the story but not in a Broadway-style musical sort of way. It also makes for some great comedic moments, because some of the songs Cora Coreman sings are so utterly weird but perfectly fit her character, that you can’t help but enjoy them.

Now, constrastingly, Set It Up, which I’ve mentioned on here already but can’t quite put it in the genre’s upper tier or lower tier, seems to typify everything that’s stale about mainstream romcoms. The main characters are 20-somethings, trying to move up the corporate ladder but are stuck in their thankless jobs; the movie takes place in New York City; and the leads ultimately fall in love while setting up a deception on their respective bosses. But, to its credit, Set It Up has fairly likable characters and well-written dialogue, so it kind of makes it a mid-tier level romcom for me, personally.

IT HAS AN EMOTIONAL CORE

One of the reasons I appreciated Definitely, Maybe and The Switch, both of which I watched for the first time this week, is because the two films really shine when they lean into the parent/child relationship. The scene between Ryan Reynolds’ character and his daughter in the zoo, at the end of the movie, where he tells her that she was the happy ending to the story really hits an emotional chord. Likewise, the growing relationship between Jason Bateman’s character and his son keeps The Switch from being another typical romcom.

I also really liked how, at the end of Always Be My Maybe, Sasha embraces what Marcus and his mom had done for her, why food had become such a big part of her life. It kind of subverted Marcus’ big romantic gesture with his little speech on the red carpet (thanks to carpet cleaning st louis for their timely help) while also one-upping it, because while she has always loved Marcus, she’s also always loved being a part of his life, a part of his family.

Unlike in many romcoms, in The Big Sick, Kumail is worried that he ‘won’t get the girl,’ not only because they’d had a fight but also because she fell into a coma and he thought she might die. That gives the movie more emotional weight than any other typical “will they, won’t they” plots.

And, because I won’t shut up about Crazy Rich Asians … even people who were “meh” about the movie said that the mahjong scene between Rachel and Eleanor was the best scene. Seriously. In a film where people shoot missiles off cargo tankers into the ocean, where there’s an elaborate wedding, where everything is extravagant and the set pieces are insane… the highlight of the movie is two women sitting at a table, talking, while they play a game that most Americans don’t understand. In fact, people who read the book said that they liked that the filmmakers added that scene. Can you remember the last time you saw book-fans saying they LIKED a change the movie made?

Compare all of these examples to Gerard Butler’s character in The Ugly Truth deciding he didn’t want to go to a bigger station because his nephew (who was in all of two scenes) needs a father-figure in his life. Or in Made of Honor where Patrick Dempsey’s character tries to undermine his best friend’s wedding — not because the guy she’s marrying is a skeezebag — but because the guy she’s marrying isn’t him, which is what he wants. The formula of guy+girl+shenanigans can only get you so far without some kind of emotional glue to hold your interest.

THE COMEDY ELEMENTS ARE CLEVER AND — I can’t believe I have to say this — FUNNY

I could go on and on with different examples of witty comedy from my upper-tier romcoms, but I’ll simply compare two scenes from two romcoms of varying quality — Always Be My Maybe and The Ugly Truth. In both movies, there’s a scene where the main characters are all going out to an awkward, fancy dinner where some characters get to meet other ones for the first time.

In The Ugly Truth, before a dinner with her partner-in-crime coworker, her bosses and her new boyfriend, Butler’s character had sent Heigl’s a set of vibrating underwear. She accidentally wears them to the dinner and brings the remote with her. Eventually, the remote rolls out of her purse, a kid picks it up and — not knowing what it is — starts messing with it. This prompts the predictable situation of Heigl’s character trying to make it through the conversation until she and Butler’s character locate the remote, all while her lower half is vibrating and making her feel … things. The scenario might’ve been worth a giggle initially, but ultimately it falls flat because, from the outset, we knew exactly where the situation was going and what the joke was going to be. Instead of being funny, it feels awkward, drawn-out and painful. Well, for the audience, at least.

Now, with Always Be My Maybe, Sasha has invited Marcus and his girlfriend to meet her new boyfriend, who turns out to be (SPOILERS) Keanu Reeves. They eat at a very high-end restaurant, where Marcus continues to make fun of how weird the food is and how tiny the portions are. The weird vibe between all four of the people, the actual restaurant and its food, the great timing and delivery by the actors, the editing and music choices, and the clever dialogue all stack on top of each other to make it one of the funniest scenes in the movie. The payoff here is much better, to the point where I laughed out loud several times, because ultimately, you have no idea where it’s going.

In my opinion, the best comedic scenes aren’t the ones where the set-up is force-fed to you so that the joke isn’t funny so much as inevitable; instead, they’re the ones that make you say “I’m not sure where this is going, but I’m excited to find out.” Of course, in any romcom, there are always running gags and good one-liners. But the scenes like this should be the real meat of the comedy portions of a romcom. Is the comedy predicated on a single, predictable thing? Or are there multiple elements going on that all converge to create one great scene, which — if done right — should be the foundation for additional humorous moments later in the movie. (See Always Be My Maybe for examples of this.)

I do want to say, very quickly, that even though I’ve really given The Proposal a lot of flack in this post, there are some legitimately funny scenes in that movie, including the male exotic dancer scene and the one where Bullock’s character starts dancing around the fire with Betty White’s character. While other components of that movie are stale or lacking, the comedy seems to be the one area they got right. Or close enough.

THE ROMANCE IS COMPELLING AND APPROPRIATE

I’ve talked about this some already, but the relationship between the two leads shouldn’t feel like a dumbing-down of human relationships or simply an instance where you feel like the couple only got together because they were both attractive, (maybe) single and the film’s lead characters. As I said with the chemistry bit, it should feel like these two people belong together not because the universe brought them together, but because it makes sense given who they are as individuals.

While I really enjoy The Decoy Bride as whole, I definitely dislike the idea of these two people falling in love after only knowing each other for a day or two. Still, the various characters throughout the movie make it very clear to our two leads what love and marriage should look like, as opposed to the shallow version of marriage that society sometimes gives us and that some of the main characters had believed in.

In Juliet, Naked, Annie and Tucker start getting closer to each other over email, without ever having seen each other in real life. Neither has any idea of how attractive the other person is, but they definitely want to pursue whatever dynamic they’ve started over the internet.

Meanwhile, in The Ugly Truth, the leads seemingly only get together at the end because they’re both physically attracted to one another. She thinks he’s a shallow asshole, and he thinks she’s a nagging bitch. But somehow they end up together. The Proposal has similar problems. Why is it so hard for a romcom to have two people who like, respect and appreciate each other from the outset? Or, at the very least, don’t actively hate the other person at the beginning of the movie?

… So where does that leave us?

Admittedly, I’m drawing from a pretty small sample size in this post, as there are plenty more romcoms to praise and PLENTY more to hate. But, the real beef here is not with any particularly shitty romcom — although I am ready to fight the people who made How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days anytime, anywhere — but more with the system that keeps rewarding their ilk. As I said, this is a problem throughout Hollywood, not just romcoms. Yet for some reason, people tend to brush off romcoms as a lesser genre, the same way people used to brush off children’s movies. But, we’ve seen in recent years what high-quality children’s films we can get when we reward the good ones and criticize the bad.

If we want romcoms to be better — and it looks like we’re moving that way as four of my upper-tier movies have come out in the last year — we shouldn’t allow mediocrity to keep passing for quality. We shouldn’t demonize romcoms as “chick-flicks” or “girly movies,” but instead embrace their zaniness, their optimism and their “love triumphs over all” messages. Why are Shakespeare’s romantic comedies considered classic literature, but a guy feels the need to explain himself if someone wonders why he has Miss Congeniality on his shelf? We must overcome this ridiculous double-standard that only women are allowed to enjoy romcoms, and even then she must do so guiltily. We should hold romcoms to the same level as superhero films or Pixar movies by calling out what’s weak, cliche and inappropriate, and highlighting what’s clever, meaningful and unique.

That means that you have to do your part, too. Don’t see a romcom just because there’s nothing else playing; only go if it looks intelligent and/or you hear good things. Don’t buy or support them unless you can honestly tell yourself that they’re not damaging to women, or men, or human relationships. And if ever someone tells you how much they love a lower-tier romcom, politely recommend that they check out a better one that they’ve never seen before.

We suffered through the superhero movies of the ’90s and early 2000s, and now look where we are. We viewers have helped salvage one genre through our support and criticism. Why can’t we work to salvage another?

Because I really need the day to come when romcoms like Juliet, Naked aren’t the exception — they’re the norm.