On me being a sucker

I'm a sucker. Acceptance is the first step toward healing, or so they say. So I've accepted my suckerdom for the time being.

I am a sucker for what the industry calls romantic comedy. Or "chick flick." This is why I will never be Anthony Lane or Lisa Schwarzbaum and I've accepted that it is one of the roadblocks on my path to film writing greatness. I hold my opinion of film to a very high standard, but I do buy into the "guilty pleasure" film—it's mediocre at best and you know it's mediocre but you still can't help wanting to watch it over and over again. In the romantic film genre, there is genius (Before Sunset, Shakespeare in Love), completely ridiculous (View From the Top, Heartbreakers) and then there is "guilty pleasure" (Chasing Liberty, The Holiday).

Tonight I was invited to a free screening of Definitely, Maybe. I had seen the trailer and dismissed it as fluff, especially considering my serious dislike of Ryan Reynolds. But I couldn't turn down a free flick when Carolyn invited me. So with some reservations I watched the romance unfold.

It was predictable (the boy finds a used book with an important inscription in order to woo girl, hello! We've seen that, it's called Serendipity and it stars a much more charming actor[freaking Lloyd Dobler himself!] then you, Mr. Reynolds). But did I tear up at the end? Yes! I smiled, I giggled, I swooned. What can I say? Give me New York, indie love songs and a sweet kiss on a bench and I'm sold.