Three films about love

It's summertime, and love is in the air. My college friends are starting to get engaged, and I will be a bridesmaid for the first time in September. Although the circumstances which drive people to fall in love are often arbitrary and increasingly demystified by neuroscience, love that endures because of the ongoing and mutual choices of two people to care for each other - and not because of immutable chains of history or ancestry - is still a rare treasure.  And of course, love is still the most potent source of inspiration for all literature, art, and film. Here are three films about love which present very different takes on the challenges and triumphs of modern love.

1) The Girl in the Cafe

This little-known gem from HBO Films is extraordinary in being able to carry off the unlikely combination of an odd-couple love story and brazenly direct political criticism with flair and charm. Unlike films like The Constant Gardener and Blood Diamond, the political aspect of The Girl in the Cafe doesn't involve any intrigue or action to move the story along, so it relies solely on the intricately-tuned performances of its stars and the eloquence of its script.

The story follows the now-well-treaded formula (see Once, Before Sunrise, etc.) in which an endearing but hapless bloke who meets a quirky, sexy, presumptuous girl and an improbable love story ensues. But this story is made all the more intriguing because the love is between positively geriatric Bill Nighy (AKA Davy Jones) and Kelly MacDonald whom I simply adore and who despite being 32 still looks every bit the ingenue. And the other twist is that Nighy's character is one of Britain's finance ministers, and his job takes both him and MacDonald to the G8 summit in Iceland where Nighy's party is trying to lobby for increased debt relief and aid to developing countries.

The first part of the movie moves leisurely, doting on every awkward pause and snorting stutter in the odd couple's initial courtship. And it manages to gracefully transition from playful flirtation to the strained intensity of the summit which brings up uncomfortable questions for both the lovers and the world leaders who are poised to fall short yet again on the goal of eradicating global poverty in our generation. Both Nighy and MacDonald deliver a few high-toned monologues strongly indicting the self-importance and temporization of international diplomacy. And although these speeches disrupt the film's otherwise-light touch, its message - that our current inaction toward extreme poverty obliterates any pretense of that we truly believe in social justice and equality - is one which I don't think we can hear often enough.

Yes, the story certainly sounds like a clunker that only the most hardcore bleeding-heart liberal could love, but somehow it all comes together in a beautiful treatment of the power of conditional love, which sees past age, class, and status to find deeper commonalities, and the power of unconditional love, to look past our immediate ties and treat with equal urgency the suffering of all people in need no matter whether they're our own children or people we have never met.

2) Before Sunset

Before Sunset is one of my favorite films, and it was actually the subject of my very first blog entry. Although its characters are vibrant and real and its classic storybook romance is incredibly affecting, the type of love the film portrays is something few of us ever experience.

It's prequel Before Sunset followed two young people named Jesse and Celine as they cavorted around Vienna in the most perfect film representation I have ever seen of love at first sight, of a Big Love that sweeps you away and changes you forever. But even Jesse and Celine themselves know that all that stuff - love at first sight, everlasting love - is bullshit, right? Most of the time, powerful infatuation does dissipate into something mundane and perhaps unappealing. But sometimes - in the movies especially, but even in real life - we do find real emotional connections.

As with most emotions, time typically dulls the ache of lost love, and by all reasonable means they should have moved on after nine years. Against the neurochemical odds, neither could forget the connection they had with each other, and the knowledge of what was possible undercut their ability to truly enjoy ordinary love. The story shows that if you do find a Big Love that works, don't let it go. But for most of us, finding fault with what we have because it doesn't match a romanticized view of love is a sure path to loneliness.

3) Sex and the City - the Movie

I don't mind enjoying SATC for mindless fun, but I have always found its portrayal of modern love to be thoroughly wrongheaded, if also unfortunately realistic. Although I was very entertained by the movie, its plotline only emphasized the selfish mistakes people make to destroy their own relationships.

For one, the film takes to an extreme the common practice of using gifts to show affection (which I have already criticized extensively). In a subversively comical turn which is utterly lost on the characters, the recurring symbol of Big's love for Carrie is ... a giant closet. But more importantly, the film illustrates my point that communication is the main reason people break up in relationships, and, well, it's not a very good one. In the pivotal wedding scene, the film's core storyline is triggered by the loss of a cell phone.

And when the disaster struck, Carrie does what so many of us do when confronted with relationship trouble - shut down, run away, and cut off all communication. In the end, the characters nominally learn the value of forgiveness and all is resolved, but the film did little to convey a sense that they gained any real empathy for each other. When Carrie cut herself off from Big after their wedding debacle, I couldn't help but think back several seasons back when she pleaded for forgiveness from Aidan after making a much bigger transgression. Similarly, Miranda is utterly unsympathetic to Steve in their relationship troubles even as she begged forgiveness from Carrie. Although everything worked out in the end, the characters all seemed just as self-absorbed and materialistic as ever and bound to have the same fights and make the same mistakes again.