broken paper heart on a piece of string, with a black background

The death of the romcom

I watched Anyone But You as a last resort on an airplane entertainment system. The film, starring Sydney Sweeney and Glenn Powell has been a wide topic of conversation, with many calling it a “revival film” for the genre or a “romcom renaissance.” On paper it provided all the makings of a favourite, grossing 220 million. The film is based on Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing, with a star-studded cast and wrapped up with a catchy Natasha Bedingfield song, “Unwritten”, which looped in my head for the remaining seven hours of the flight. For the first time in a while, a romantic comedy seemed to demonstrate blockbuster success.

But contrarily, I struggled watching Anyone But You. To me, it highlighted why modern romcoms aren’t successful. The plot relied heavily on their hatred for each other, due to Sweeney’s character, Bea, walking out after a night spent with Powell’s character, Ben. It presented as forced, awkward, and entirely avoidable, leaving me wondering why the credits didn’t roll an hour ago. Bea and Ben then find themselves attending a destination wedding and decide the best course of action is to pretend to be a couple, which, whilst a common romantic plot line, nonetheless seemed the worst possible solution.

Critics described the film as embarrassed of itself, with an underlying cynicism running throughout, and a desperation to come across as realistic. So why does Anyone But You pale in comparison to the “peak” of romantic comedy?

Romcoms as a genre have had to evolve to changes in the film industry, primarily the rise of streaming. Streaming platforms, Netflix in particular, have a large array of romcoms, for example To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, which was such a success it warranted two sequels. For Netflix, romcoms are a perfect low budget and intensity film to produce. But this mass production ruins the quality of these films, as there is a visible downgrade in creativity, costuming, and soundtracks. In addition, the sheer quantity of films means anything special no longer stands out.

The cult-like obsession associated with certain romcoms, therefore, feels a concept of the past. Romcoms have always had large followings, for example, Heath Ledger fangirls after 10 things I Hate About You. Particularly relevant for Edinburgh is the rise of the “frazzled English woman” aesthetic and romanticisation of Bridget Jones. It is hard to imagine any modern romcom character could inspire such a following: certainly not Sweeney’s character.

The decline in quality raises questions about whether the industry is reacting to a lacklustre modern dating scene. The movement away from the cheesy, and towards the relatable, makes romcoms, to both me and a modern audience, tragedies. The lack of naivety and rise of self-awareness undermines the use of romcoms as escapism. Additionally, far-fetched plot lines are no longer comprehendible due to technology, so it is hard to force plot lines of miscommunication, or coincidence. Movies could lean into modern archetypes, but then risk losing the element of nostalgia that makes old movies so comforting. How long until the next big film is set on Hinge?

However, as an optimist who loves romantic comedies, I do think there is potential for the genre to adapt to a new time. There is so much potential for romantic movies to include diversity, for example Amazon’s Red, White & Royal Blue, which was a book adaptation, telling the love story of a British prince and President’s son. Change is slow, and Hollywood holds onto its stigma about diversity, Anyone But You being the leading example: token lesbian couple, token black best friend, but no glimpse of any diverse lead. But whilst Anyone But You is not the film to save romcoms, not all hope is lost. Film genres are cyclical, and there will always be demand for romantic movies, just perhaps with an evolved format.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash