Guilty Pleasures

There has always been one genre of film that I feel gets an unwarranted amount of flak – the dear old rom-com. It seems to either evoke a smile and a warm, fuzzy feeling inside, or you can see the look of concentration on someone’s face as they try to restrain the vomit from making it any further up their windpipe than their throat.

A lot of people say that they are too ‘slushy’ or totally unrealistic. But the point is that even the films themselves know they’re not meant to be taken seriously. People go to see them to escape for a while from the knowledge of their own dreary existence. To lose themselves in the idea that maybe, just maybe, everything will actually be ok in the end. That there is the perfect person out there just waiting for us and to cling on to the hope that one day we will experience the ultimate romantic gesture that reduces not just yourself but everyone else around you to mush.

All these criticisms of them being wholly unrealistic and therefore not worthy of viewing are utter crap. Point out to the macho man who slates romantic comedies that the chances of someone being hunted in a wood by a psycho wearing a mask and wielding a chainsaw (as seen in his favourite horror film) are just as slim, and he hasn’t got a leg to stand on.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to watch ninety minutes of something that will make us feel better about life. Over ten million people watch Eastenders each day – and they’re doing it because it makes them realise that their own life in comparison isn’t nearly as bad as they’d maybe originally thought. Anyone who tunes in for realism may be unbelievably deluded, but whatever their reasons for watching, you don’t hear conversations of people at the desks next to you slating their colleagues for watching on a daily basis.

Yet after announcing I was going to watch The Ugly Truth (the industry’s freshest rom-com offering), all I received was eye rolling, loud groans and a field of questions revolving around the word, ‘why’? Well why bloody not. I’m proud to say I like watching them, and next time you criticize me you can be prepared to face my barrage of questions as to how realistic that oh-so-cool art house film you watched last night was. Ready?