The myth of rom-com
I have a comprehensive and rather overwhelming opinion of romantic comedy as a genre, which I consider the most cursed and harmful of all. Rom-com is one of Hollywood’s most popular brands and at this time of year, from Christmas to Valentine’s Day, we are exposed to far more productions of these same-plot stories than it would be required by the remains of our good taste.
Rom-com has usual points and constant rules just like an ancient Greek epic or classic drama, and any sort of deviation from these rules is simply impossible. It's always a story of redemption: the monotony of an ordinary, boring and hated everyday life ceases at a dash when the excitement, intoxication, and ecstasy of love come to the life of our protagonist. The flame of passion strikes so high that it even burns the feet of a little Cupid sitting on a cloud above. It turns out that heaven is here on earth and it couldn't come from anywhere else but a bag labeled 'LOVE'. No wonder the majority of young people socialised by Hollywood movies believe in the doctrine of love redemption….and mostly only that. They hope and fear that both happiness and unhappiness are based on their love life or its lack.
The plot of the story intensifies with unbroken momentum till the two-third of the movie, and happiness is almost infinite when the demon of dilulu suddenly appears. There are several common phrases that come from the disappointed person at this point, “Why didn't you tell me?”, “So you lied all along?”, “ I'll never forgive myself for letting you close.”, “I don't want to see you again.” etc. Then a montage of sleepless nights comes with rejected phone calls, and at the very end of the movie, a creepily reckless, I-can-prove-that-I-love-you type of victorious part, the conquering operation which requires at least a speeding motorcycle on the highway, a crowded stadium or an airport lounge where the knight in love is breaking through the gate or the authority to confess his feelings. The ultimate redemption arrives perfectly on schedule, the all-pain-relieving happy end that has nothing to do with reality but it's always very reminiscent of literally any rom-com you’ve seen before.
A question arises which is just as obvious as unanswered: Why do people love to watch the same thing over and over and over again? As if they hadn’t seen the story yet. As if they didn’t know at the very beginning what was going to happen on the screen in 5 minutes, half an hour, or at the very end. It is an eternal riddle, mainly because mass culture produces countless similar models and for some unknown reason it works. For example, why do people watch episodes of crime series with recurring interest? Their plot is just as always the same as rom-coms’.
Well, this habit is psychologically probably related to a symptom known as catatonia. Man’s escape to monotony and its impact on the reversibility of the permanence of repetitions goes back to significant cultural traditions. It's enough to think of the tam-tam drums of tribal communities, too. Of course, maybe this whole reasoning is a lot of bullshit, and people simply love the sense of security, just like we all love mom’s cook. It’s good for them and it has a home-snug experience of something familiar, the certainty of I-already-know-this feeling so much that they’re queuing up at the ticket offices to relive it again and again. One way or another, Hollywood's rom-com has been infecting the mind of cinema-goers for decades now.
But why are rom-coms so harmful?
This question is now much easier to answer. It’s a harmful genre because after the end title, we always get up from the chair and leave the cinema with the feeling that when true love reaches us, we hug each other and stay that way for good.
Unfortunately, the film never shows what happens after the ending credits. Instead of the infinite permanence of ecstasy and harmony, people have to experience the annoyances of everyday life; boredom, another kind of monotony and all the conflicts that come with a relationship escpecially living together. But they are unaware of what a real relationship is like, because the film always ends when the couple is happily riding into the sun. As soon as the moments of struggles in our everyday life with all the fights, annoyances, frustrations appear, people won’t question the truth of Hollywood rom-coms but their partners’ role in their lives. They won't say, "well, the film is a lying reference that made me think I should be happy in my relationship all the time". Instead, they say the Hollywood recipe was good, and whatever they saw was true and they all deserve that and only their partner ... well, he/she is just not the Real One.
And then they break up, change partners after partners and each time they invite a new one into their lives saying, "well, this new partner will be the Real One". They replay the complete rom-com script da capo al fine, and they run into the sun, only life doesn’t freeze there. And again, dull days are coming - again, they have to be disappointed - again, because these asshole producers never made a film about an actual relationship. The plot was always a combo of union-disappointment-reunion and happiness. That's why they come to the conclusion that it seems their partners aren't the Real Ones because some of the parts they experience with them were not on the screen. That fictional partners didn't have these fucking annoying things; she was always perfect looking, he didn’t snore, she didn’t have other things than the relationship, he didn’t pee on the seat, she didn’t menstruate, he wasn’t hairy and nothing was more important to them than their partner.
If everything in those films went so well, then their partner is obviously not the Real One. And they don’t raise the question not even accidentally: "And am I even the Real One? Me, who judges my own relationship on the basis of a fucking film.”
With this manner and immature approach, we keep self-sabotaging all our relationships, while wrapping each new relationship in the ideology that always promises to be our saviour, and we explain the failure of our previous relationships by saying that they just weren’t the ones. So, when grandmas and aunties ask why their little sunshine of the family doesn’t have a serious relationship, a family, or children yet, they can explain it reassuringly: he/she certainly hasn’t found the Real One yet, and little sunshine nods easily: well yea, not yet.
At least two generations have been fooling themselves with this complete bullshit for now and there are more to come. No one thinks that they, themselves may not be the Real One. No one.
I don’t think I wouldn’t have found the Real One yet, in fact, I think there were at least 2–3 people who I met and could have been the real ones but I wasn’t a Real One myself either because I didn’t care enough to become that person. Also, I’m sure there isn’t just one real love in our lives. I don’t believe in these very romantic lies, but I do believe that it is our job to become Real Ones and find someone to improve and grow into a bigger and better person with.
