Every week this year, my roommate Reid and I plan to watch a romantic comedy. We do this partly because we like to sit on a bed together and snuggle, but mostly because romantic comedies are fun and remind us that maybe some day we will sensuously and soberly kiss a girl and feel good about it. Each week, I’ll report back to you on the quality of the movie, using a highly sophisticated algorithm to gauge its worth. Let’s begin.
This week: When Harry Met Sally
It seemed fitting to begin this beautiful new weekly tradition with perhaps the staple of the genre, When Harry Met Sally. The film has all the ingredients for success: post-Princess Bride/pre-Rumor Has It… Rob Reiner; pre-Botox Billy Crystal; super-realistic fake orgasms… like I said, all the fucking ingredients. Roommate Reid had never seen it, and I hadn’t seen it in a long enough time that I felt it was permissible to rewatch, so we popped it on the ol’ YouTube (full version’s on there free, go figure), and pressed play.
We first meet Harry and Sally as they leave on a road trip from UChicago to New York. It’s not super clear what either of them is doing there, but it seems that maybe they are both students and maybe they just graduated. Sally is Harry’s girlfriend’s friend. They start driving, and they hate each other. Or at least Sally hates Harry. She drops him off in New York, they bid each other a good life, and they walk away, never to meet again. Ha! Yeah right. [Semi-spoilers in the next paragraph.]