“Can men and women ever just be friends?”
The central question at the premise of When Harry Met Sally... could not exist past the 1980s. It’s just so blatantly, pathetically non-debatable in any kind of modern context. The notion that men and women can be platonic friends is as accepted as any other kind of social more, and it’s both misogynistic and misandrist to suggest otherwise. Obviously to entertain it, it also requires pretending non-heterosexual people don’t exist. Most of my closest friends since high school have been women, it’s not unusual in the twenty-first century.
But as laughable as that conceit that drives much of the narrative is, When Harry Met Sally... is indeed a darn good romantic comedy. I’ve been hearing as much for years, but it’s high time I found out myself. I find I’m running out of classic Christmas movies to review this time of year so I figured instead I’d seek out a New Years’ movie (of which there are fewer), and this one has two critical scenes set at New Years so it suffices -and crosses one more iconic film off my list.
It’s Nora Ephron’s script that really makes When Harry Met Sally... work in spite of its’ out of touch elements: it’s a damn fine screenplay and it’s clear how it has influenced practically every rom-com writer since. The dialogue is so smart and snappy, with a lot of that cute wit and observational conversationalism that has become demonstrative of the genre. Its’ patterned structure set over a period of twelve years based around chance encounters that turn into a deeper relationship is a brilliant approach, and the interstitial scenes of elderly couples recounting how they met and fell in love is a really effective device to break up the film, create a stronger sensation of time between sequences, and just provide a dose of quaint, homely relief. Almost all the clichés are there, but only a few of them I could immediately think of as having originated earlier. Ephron really did create the template for the American rom-com it seems in the same way that Richard Curtis did for the British.
Director Rob Reiner deserves a heap of credit too though, pitching the initial premise and drawing on his experiences as a single man in the aftermath of his divorce from Penny Marshall for the characterization of Harry (Sally conversely came from Ephron and her own single women friends). And of course Billy Crystal helped out in that department too, lending the character some of his own humour –and you can tell where the jokes are that came from Crystal in the finished product. Not all of them are great, and in fact do little to paint him as more than an asshole in the early goings. We first meet him as the boyfriend of Sally’s friend at college, driving Sally as a favour to New York, where they are both moving to. And he seems pretty instantly obnoxious in his talk and candour, his assertions about relationships romantic and platonic. You see him clearly from Sally’s perspective as a blowhard and possible creep, and nothing is lost in her never seeing him again afterward.
But of course they do cross paths, roughly five years later and with this time-skip, Ephron and Reiner responsibly account for character growth. Meeting at an airport, Sally is shocked to find that Harry is engaged, that he seems a slightly more mature person than the guy who gave her a lift years ago. Further, Harry has seemingly changed his opinion on male-female friendships. Sally meanwhile is the one who is still much the same person she was when she left Chicago –and both Ephron and Meg Ryan are aware of this. Even as she’s dating his neighbour she can’t bring herself to return his offer of goodwill, carrying those impressions she had of him five years earlier. A bit of the self-satisfied jerk is still there of course, but he’s more open-minded. Here it’s time for her to be.
That second act of the movie is where it’s at it’s best, where Harry and Sally in the contemporary year have fallen out of serious relationships and find solace in each other, finally putting that friend question to the test. And it’s wonderful. Both feel more grown-up at this stage and yet not too much so, they play off each other with an identifiable grace and comfort, and they make for quite an endearing friendship. Crystal and Ryan’s chemistry is stronger, the writing is at its’ most sincere, and Reiner’s direction even feels more smooth. I love the autumn colours of this movie when this stage begins, there’s a warmth in the atmosphere. And of course early on in this part of the story is the classic restaurant scene. I’ve seen it before, but not in its’ full form in many, many years -I like most am more familiar with the punchline, delivered by Reiner’s own mother as it happens. The idea to perform a fake orgasm there in the diner was apparently Ryan’s, and even knowing it was coming I was still caught off guard by how intense it was. There’s a reason it is perhaps the most iconic moment in rom-com history, and Estelle Reiner’s punctuation is just the perfect cherry on top.
But the pervasiveness of this scene does kind of disguise how the relationship around it is actually very earnest. I love the bits of them in bed talking to each other on the phone while watching Casablanca, or that awkward moment when they run into Harry’s ex-wife, or Sally getting a movie date and Harry not being bothered by it. You know it’s only a matter of time before they fall for each other, but the lead-up to that is sweet too -and gives off a healthy impression of what cross-gender friendships can be, hell any kind of friendship. They each have their own same-sex confidant of course, Harry has the shallow Jess, played by Bruno Kirby, while Sally has the outgoing Marie, played by Carrie Fisher -each decent foils for the respective protagonists. But they never strike me as very close friendships, certainly not compared to what Harry and Sally have, leading me to wonder if Ephron is saying anything about the kind of heteronormative social conventions that push people into friendships that aren’t all that meaningful.
Of course Harry and Sally’s relationship does evolve into something more, and its’ a testament to how well these characters are realized that you do go along with it, even as it threatens to come down solidly on the dumb side of the films’ big thesis. When the spark first hits them on New Year’s Eve, it’s kind of irresistible. The clichés start coming fast and hard here, but nevertheless, the development of their relationship this way plays out well, by that point the investment in this couple is solidly lain. So when they give in to their feelings in a moment of emotional vulnerability and sleep together it doesn’t feel so contrived -it feels earned and even lovely. That’s not so with the confusion afterwards -which is relatively one-sided on Harry’s part (we don’t really get Sally’s perspective), unsure what to make of this dynamic and fearful of the old one being shattered.
The beats as they attempt to maintain normalcy through to their friends’ wedding come as expected, complete with big argument and dramatic falling out, however there is a tangible weight there. And it’s felt even more in the scenes that follow of the pair, lonely and miserable over the next several months, Harry constantly trying to renew their friendship and Sally ignoring him. Apart from his haranguing, the sad details really stand out -in contrast to the house they earlier moved Jess and Marie into, their apartments are very stripped down, ordinary, their lifestyles reflective of their mood -that of two sad people in New York who need each other (Harry watching the Dick Clark New Year’s Eve special on a small TV while in bed is definitely relatable. The tension is built however for a heartwarming finale, and though it wasn’t Ephron and Reiner’s original plan, they chose the crowd-pleaser ending where Harry finds Sally at a party to confess his love for her, and it was right. A conventional romantic ending, but one so sweetly written and played that it can’t help but work. That speech Harry espousing all of the little things he loves about Sally really is one of the best, and her response is beautifully tender and funny at the same time.
There’s an interesting thing about those recurring diversions to old couples talking about their romantic history. Many of their stories would indicate a friendship preceding their romance, and in that vein it’s the most obvious thing in the world when the movie closes on Harry and Sally sharing their story too as they each see it. These sequences are little bursts of a kind of naturalism not typically seen elsewhere in the film -and Harry and Sally embody it too- they might just be real. Many would say the foundation of a good romance is a strong friendship, and that is I think what When Harry Met Sally... communicates more successfully and lastingly than the ill-gotten tagline. Nowhere in the film do they seem more made for each other than during that period where they are just being friends.
This is a good movie. Maybe not as amazing as its’ reputation, but certainly a warm, romantic, nice movie to close off a year marked by so much of the opposite of those things. We’re not doing parties this year, but may you find the love of your life on the New Year anyways. And if not, a lot can happen before next year.
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