Kathleen Kelly, You’ve Got Mail. Kathleen Kelly (Meg Ryan) is trying to run the children’s bookstore she inherited from her mother while dating the world’s most boring man alive when she starts up an internet flirtationship with Joe Fox (Tom Hanks). Just Call Me Joe is a very New York piece of shit who owns a book “superstore.” Remember Borders? Unbeknownst to Joe and Kathleen, they’re rivals in real life even as they’re falling in love online! Can you believe it? I can! The writing is, as per usual in an Ephron vehicle, flawless, but Kathleen is a bit of a sweet dope. Perhaps the best part of her character is that Joe Fox brings out the worst in her instead of the best, which is very fun to watch, if problematic in real life. Of course, as they spend more time together, Joe becomes a better, kinder person (the journey seemingly every single cis straight man ever must go on because they all suck before a woman helps them realize they need to not suck) and Kathleen stops having to be biting and mean; she submits to the grief of losing her business and tries to make a full life for herself, which weirdly includes a friendship with Joe before she finds out that she’s been cyber-dating him. VERDICT: Surprisingly, harmful??? A lot has been said about this—much of it by my boyfriend every time I try to watch this lovely, perfect film—but Joe Fox is less than ideal. He’s a multimillionaire, first of all, and a dick to her. Plus, this movie gave me the idea that you could viably own a bookstore in New York and afford to live. She should have ended up with Patricia Eden. Or just living single with Birdie.
Emma Thompson, Love Actually. Love Actually was the first R-rated film I ever saw. My mom took my sister Lena and me to the movies to see it and then let us skip school the next day and I don’t give a shit about what you’re supposed to do as a parent because that’s one of my favorite memories of all time. Plus it was the first time I saw two fully naked people on-screen. I was… titillated, to say the least. Anyway, of all the romances in this movie, Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman’s is the best. Don’t care about their characters’ names, frankly—probably like Nigel and Gemma, knowing British people. Emma Thompson has the most poignant arc of any character in that film, hands down, and if you don’t feel something when she uses the word absent as a verb and goes to her room and cries because she realizes—on Christmas Eve!—that her husband is cheating on her, you’re a monster. Honestly, though, for me, her greatest moment comes right after that when she dries her tears and has to come out of the bedroom and get her kids ready for their recital and be a jazz hands! excited mom, even though she wants to cry. That is some real shit right there. That’s one of the hardest micro-momentsIV on film for me to watch, but it’s probably also exactly what it’s like to be a mom. At least, I always saw my mom in that scene, and all the times she probably was having her heart broken but had to still show up and be a mom because you don’t have a choice. VERDICT: HELPFUL! WE LOVE EMMA THOMPSON AND MOMS.
Anna Scott, Notting Hill. This movie was groundbreaking because it featured an unlikable female lead! In a rom-com! I have multiple friends who love rom-coms, but who don’t like this movie because Anna Scott (Julia Roberts) is kind of a bitch and I’m like… that is the point of this movie!!! Do you know how many unlikable male leads there have been? Come on. This woman gets to mess up and be powerful and be harmful and grovel and end up with a bangin’-hot bookstore owner who lives in Notting Hill? Are you joking me? This is what feminism fought for!V
VERDICT: I want to say helpful because I’m in love with a movie having an unlikable lead woman, but ultimately this was harmful because I am not a famous actress, I am not porking 1999 Hugh Grant, and I am not getting to be a little bit of a bitch about it. Unrealistic expectations: set.
Julianne Potter, My Best Friend’s Wedding. Look, this movie is absurd. Two friends have a semi-serious pact to marry one another if they’re still single at age twenty-eight. Twenty. Eight. Right before that happens, hunky hunky Michael (Dermot Mulroney) tells Julianne (Julia Roberts) that he’s actually about to marry a twenty-year-old named Kimberly (Cameron Diaz) who is going to drop out of college for him so that he can be a sportswriter. Okay. There are nine hundred things wrong with this plot, obviously, not the least of which is that if my twenty-eight-year-old guy friend called to tell me he was marrying a twenty-year-old, I would go to his house and beat him up. With a baseball bat. That said, almost nothing has ever made me cry as hard as I did when I first watched this movie as an adult,VI and it’s all because of Julianne. She’s a disaster and a half! She’s desperately, disastrously in love with her best friend—something I had been many, many times in my life, although I never actually did anything about it, because I’m not out of control. I know that Julianne is reckless, harmful, and irrational. I know she’s “fighting” to win over a guy who was fine with his new twenty-year-old wife dropping out of college, arguably not a man worth having. But I also loved watching female longing. Do you know how few depictions there are of a woman who can’t get the guy she wants? NONE. Okay, well there’s this one. Usually the only time women don’t get the guy they want in movies is if they’re “ugly.” Certainly, the main character—and most especially 1990s Julia Roberts—doesn’t end up alone! And actually, in this movie, she doesn’t! She ends up with George (Rupert Everett), one of the best friends of all time. And I think she and Michael likely remain friends. VERDICT: Helpful depiction of female longing and how you often use friends to get over heartbreaks that feel gutting at the time but that ultimately don’t kill you. Harmful in the sense that she is incredibly selfish with her love.
Kenya McQueen, Something New. I remember which movie theater I saw this in; I think I was skipping hockey practice with Lena and we went to the movie theater in the mall instead of the ice rink. Immediately I wanted to watch it again because it was one of the most erotic movies I’ve ever seen, but also because it was just so good. Modern romances are difficult to write well because most of the obstacles that keep people apart these days are “I don’t like him” or “I’m not satisfied with our relationship” instead of things like “Our houses are at war” or “I’m a maid in his household and he’s the duke” or “He left for the army years ago, we thought he died, I married his brother, and now he’s back.” (You know, the classic shit.) But this movie actually has a couple struggling with a real issue that isn’t just: “He leaves wet towels on the bed.” Kenya McQueen (Sanaa Lathan) is Black and Brian Kelly (Simon Baker) is white. He’s a chill guy with a jeep and a landscaping business and she’s a high-strung CPA. Of course, she has to be on top of her shit because she’s a Black woman who is constantly questioned, condescended to, and overlooked at her job because of her race. Kenya has to this point only dated Black men, and she’s interested in getting married, so meeting a white guy that she’s into is a curveball for her. But, while being a bumbling idiot on occasion (and super insensitive at one point), Brian helps Kenya loosen up a bit in her personal life. There’s a really hot scene with nail polish. Anyway, this was a formative film for me about letting go of perfectionism a bit and opening yourself up to people.VII VERDICT: Helpful depiction! Kenya practices vulnerability and also balances societal expectations of being an independent career-driven woman with what she actually wants, which is a partner. Chef’s kiss!
Elle Woods, Legally Blonde. This script is, with a few minor exceptions, practically perfect. They could, and perhaps should, teach this script in film school. Firstly, there are so few over-the-top female characters who exist in normal worlds. The same is not true for men. Men get to be characters all the time—think Ace Ventura, Buddy the Elf, Inspector Clouseau. Often, too, those men end up with beautiful, competent women who seem to not notice anything off about them, or who appreciate their quirkiness. Women do not get roles like this; Elle Woods was this role. The most inspired part of the film, however, is its celebration of femininity. Elle Woods (Reese Witherspoon) is one of the first female characters I saw who was not just unafraid of being feminine, but who used it as a power. At no point in the film does she change herself, despite the derision o
f nearly everyone around her. She is smart enough and hardworking enough to get into Harvard Law School (“What, like it’s hard?”) and yet kind enough and empathetic enough to make friends everywhere and to protect the people she cares about. And she does it without sacrificing an ounce of femininity (to steal a line from The Spy Who Dumped Me). At no point does her power come from being more like a man; at no point does the film suggest that she is weaker or dumber for her womanhood. VERDICT: Perhaps the most helpful character on this list? Hard to say!
Grace Hart, Miss Congeniality. Grace Hart (Sandra Bullock) is the opposite of Elle Woods. She’s bought into the common idea that masculinity is strong and protective and that femininity is weak and pathetic. Due to… terrorism?… and there being no other hot women in the FBI, she has to go undercover in the Miss United States Pageant, where she learns that actually women are good and that being feminine doesn’t make you lesser. Who knew! VERDICT: A helpful lesson in someone learning to reject the conditioning of society that says that masculinity is power. Harmful because she’s ultimately still a cop.
Jesminder Bhamra, Bend It Like Beckham. This movie is, to me, flawless. First of all, there’s a love triangle that isn’t about two men competing over a woman. In fact, the real love story here is between Jules (Keira Knightley) and Jess (Parminder Nagra), rather than Jess and her hot hot hot Irish soccer coach, Joe (Jonathan Rhys Meyers). (Why do all their names start with J???) Or perhaps the love story is between Jess and her family or, if I’m really being corny, which I usually am, I could say it’s between her and soccer. But the point is that the movie recognizes that Jess loves and cares about things other than just how horny her coach makes her. It’s wonderful. Here’s a female lead who attracts and gets the guy and it isn’t the most important thing in her life, even though it’s lovely and sweet. Bend It Like Beckham, much like My Big Fat Greek Wedding, always spoke to me as a teenager because they both dealt with familial and community expectations, which a lot of mainstream American white-led rom-coms ignore. VERDICT: Helpful as hell! Here’s a woman who isn’t weaker because she’s in love with someone, but also isn’t shaping her whole life around a man. She has things to do! She has soccer to play! She ends up with her best friend in a way. Classic. Beautiful.
Sally Albright, When Harry Met Sally. JLo says that this is her favorite rom-com and that she’s watched it fifteen thousand times and guess what? JLo is never wrong. This is obviously the big daddy of rom-coms; the apotheosis. And it could never get made today. Why? Well, because it’s mostly a movie of people sitting around talking. Very little “happens” in the way that Hollywood people want things to “happen.” (As if sleeping with your best friend is not a thing happening). Regardless, the movie is perfect; there are some lines that are so brilliant they make me want to scoop out my eyes with a grapefruit spoon.VIII Anyway, this film brought to the mainstream the question of whether straight women and straight men can be friends. Most people think that the answer the movie gives is no, straight men and straight women can’t be friends, because sex always gets in the way (as it eventually, delightfully did for Harry [Billy Crystal] and Sally [Meg Ryan]). This is nonsense! The two are friends for years. They are excellent friends to one another. Anyway, one of the most key moments of Sally’s character is when she’s crying about an ex, Joe, whom she thought she was over, and she cry-yells, “I’m difficult!” It’s hilarious and raw and real and every woman I know can relate to feeling like you’re simply too much work to love. VERDICT: Sally Albright is a gem. Helpful depiction of a “difficult” woman being loved. Although if you think Sally Albright is difficult, God help you.
Ultimately, do I think movie characters shaped me as a human? No, not entirely. That honor belongs to my parents and siblings and teachers and Mary Oliver poems. But I do think that what we see on-screen shows us possibilities. Movies give us the lessons of what life might look like if you were like someone, if you acted as they did. When I first rewatched My Best Friend’s Wedding as a college-age adult and not a nine-year-old who thought kissing was gross to witness, I remember thinking, Holy shit. That’s me. If I’m not careful, I will be Julianne. These characters didn’t make me who I am per se, but they certainly gave me a glimpse into adulthood and what I could be like. In often subtle ways, these movies let me know that it wasn’t bad or lesser to be a woman, to be feminine, and to want love—even if you have to get sewn into leather pants for it.
The Tyranny of Great Expectations
I remember the day that my dad was the most disappointed in me: March 18, 2005. (Truthfully, it lasted a few days). It’s easy to remember because it’s the day my youngest sister was born. I had gotten back a progress report—not the actual report card—and I had gotten Bs in all four of the main subjects: English, math, science, social studies. I planned intentionally to tell my father this at the hospital where his daughter had just been born because I felt that he’d be riding off the high of having a new child and might be a little more lenient. Perhaps he was; I have no idea how it would have gone on a normal day.
I told him in the elevator on the way up from the hospital parking garage. I laughed nervously and made a joke about it. My father was not having it. “This isn’t funny, Sophia.” My dad thinks everything is a joke, so that was not good. Plus, no one who knows me personally calls me Sophia unless I’m in trouble. It’s always Soph. We went to meet my sister Giovana, but my father made it clear that we would pick this up later.
And we did! Lo and behold, three days later my father, while driving me somewhere (School? Hockey practice?) had a long conversation with me about where my life was going. Because of four Bs. On a progress report. I remember so clearly being like, “Bs are above average!” And he was like, “Not for you they’re not.” He asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I gave him a few answers that included actress and lawyer, and I only said lawyer because I’d seen actresses do it on film. He gave me a lecture about how hard I would have to work if I wanted either of those jobs to happen. He was disappointed in me, because he knew I could have gotten As, but that I simply wasn’t doing the work, which was true. I was always losing or forgetting to do homework because homework sucks ass. My dad was clear, though: Bs were not allowed.
My mother was softer: she made it clear Bs were okay with her… if that’s the grade I had earned after turning in every piece of homework and trying my best. If I wasn’t doing the work, that wasn’t acceptable.
I never got another B again.I
My friends thought this was… a bit much.
My parents had high expectations for just about every facet of our lives; we were expected to do a lot of things that we didn’t necessarily want to do or like. Because Lena and I were living between two houses, we had chores at both places. Because we had younger siblings, we were expected (not asked) to provide care for them. Because we didn’t get full time with either parent, they both wanted a lot of (enforced) Quality Family Time.
For both my mother and father, we could never be at either of their houses enough, and that was made clear. It wasn’t meant to be communicated to us as a failure of ours, but there was always a film of blame: you’re not here enough. At one point, my stepmom started keeping a calendar of what time we arrived at their house and what excuses we gave if we were late. Often, it was a game of deciding which of three parents to disappoint. Since my stepmom and dad rarely communicated with one another, one might be asking for us to pick up a kid from school and the other might be wanting to go on a grocery store run with us while we had a hockey practice to go to and skates that had been left at the other parent’s house. Meanwhile, rarely was anyone asking us, “Hey, do you want to do this thing? Do you have homework to do? Would you like to just relax a bit?” Or if they did, it was very clear that they would be hurt if you turned them down. That was the real punishment in all of this: hurting your parents. It was the worst thing Lena and I could imagine and yet we did it all the time, simply by being at the other person’s house.
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sp; Holidays turned into wars over whose house we stayed at and until what time. And what time had we stayed until last year? I love Christmas; it’s my favorite holiday of all time despite me having no personal relationship with religion generally or Jesus in particular. I’m at a 10 about Christmas, which is astounding when you consider that it was also almost always the worst, most stressful day of the entire year to have divorced parents. My family did five Christmases. One with my mom at her house, one with my dad at his house (Santa went to both; he can do anything), one with my mom’s extended family, one with my dad’s extended family, and one with my stepmom’s extended family. And they were all supposed to happen between December 24 at 1 p.m. and December 25 at about 9 p.m. Every year it was a mad dash to get Lena and me to all the right events at the right time, to say enough thank-yous to people before we got hauled to the next place. Everyone involved hated it. Everyone was bitter that their family’s event didn’t get the largest slice of our time and gratitude. I still remember standing at different landline phones, my heart racing, calling the other parent to ask them to come a little later please, or to tell them that we were finally ready to go, hoping the parent whose house I was at didn’t hear.
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