Two perspectives on loving ‘Love Actually’

By Jennifer Bortner and Courtney VanAuken

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Jennifer:

On Nov. 6, 2003, Richard Curtis’s Christmas masterpiece, “Love Actually” was released in the U.S. The movie takes place a month before Christmas and features eight different couples living in London. It is a silly, sweet, and at times crude depiction of the many sides of love. It is the movie I associate most with the holiday season and enthusiastically await watching each year.

Critics hated the movie but audiences loved it — it made $247 million worldwide. Some describe some of the plots as boring or falling flat, others (rightfully) believe the movie presents myopic storylines focusing on “white, upper-middle-class Londoners.” “Love Actually” also has at times problematic portrayals of women (see the three American women — Stacey, Carla, and Carol-Anne — who are only portrayed as sex objects).

Despite the well-founded criticism, the movie remains popular. My suspicion is this stems from its playful, slice-of-life depiction of love that makes watching it so much fun. From Hugh Grant’s charismatic, babbling portrayal of a newly elected prime minister to Thomas Brodie-Sangster’s role as a young boy hopelessly in love with his classmate, there are so many characters to fall head over heels for.

While “Love Actually” is certainly a feel-good film, it is perhaps strongest at one of its saddest moments. Emma Thompson’s discovery of a necklace, confirming her husband’s feelings toward his assistant, is so utterly heart-wrenching that I have to pause the movie. Thompson’s character, like me, is a huge Joni Mitchell fan, and as she comes to terms with this discovery, the song “Both Sides Now” plays, leaving me shattered in a million pieces.

One critic described the film as “a 135 minute trailer for a film called ‘Love Actually’” and that is exactly why I love it. The bite-sized plots, while not always fully fleshed out, make watching the movie exciting. And, by the end of the film, I do feel strangely hopeful about the complex state of humanity as Hugh Grant waxes poetic about how “Love IS all around.”

Courtney:

For a romantic holiday film, “Love, Actually” is drenched in scandal and subverts audience expectations of what a romantic holiday movie is and should be. Out of the narratives presented to us, most are rooted in misbehavior. Joanna Page and Martin Freeman fall for each other on set working as intimacy stunt-doubles making small talk about the weather and the traffic as Freeman has Page bent over receiving a breast massage. Alan Rickman cheats on Emma Thompson, gives her a Joni Mitchell CD for Christmas, and becomes a more notorious villain of the holiday season than the people who put those ASPCA dogs out on the street, chaining them to a bike rack to freeze and starve.

In the Juliet-Peter-Mark track, Mark is in love with his best friend’s wife — couple Juliet and Peter tie the knot, and five weeks later, Mark is on their doorstep seducing Juliet in the street with his posters and CD of Christmas carols. How naughty is that? With Christmas, there is this motif of “naughty or nice” and, “Love, Actually” gives proper attention to “naughty” in a way that properly balances out an oftentimes unexciting adherence to “nice” that we see in most holiday movies. It’s brilliant.

“Love, Actually” is notorious for a reason. There is so much to recognize and appreciate every time you watch the film. When the score does that dramatic thing that it does at the French villa with Jamie and Aurelia, I want to scream and cheer. “Love, Actually” is, arguably, deeply rooted in the cultural iconography of holiday romance films. When Sarah has her pathetically intense crush on her co-worker Karl, yearning has never been so acute and direct. Also, let’s talk about Karl. GRRRRRR WOOF WOOF WOOF AWOOOGA AWOOOOGA BOIOIIOIOING, amiright? His name has no right to be “Karl.” A man who looks as good as that needs a name like “Octavio” or “Adonis.” This is one of the few missteps of the film.

“Love, Actually” is unapologetically joyful and optimistic as a portrayal of modern day romance. It is special, and while it is incredibly dated in the 2000s tradition of body shaming à la “Bridget Jones Diary” with the Prime Minister’s love interest Natalie, I can forgive and forget in this case. Audiences recognize that “Love, Actually” is an anomaly of sorts and it is placed on the pedestal of holiday films because it is extremely unlikely that we will see a film like this one come around again anytime soon.