Recent romantic films throw love to the wind

Leaving the local cineplex after watching My Best Friend's Wedding (now on video) last summer, a few us of squabbled over the ending of the film. Some of us felt cheated when Julia Roberts is left dancing in a hideous lavender dress with her gay friend at the wedding of the man she loves. Others were convinced that this closing signifies a realistic interpretation of today's relationships, and therefore more satisfying than other standard romantic fare.

Many recent romantic comedies lack the typical storybook, happily-ever-after conclusion that previously defined the genre. Instead of focusing on the loving couple with the requisite swelling music and fuzzy closeups, contemporary films tend to celebrate the development of the individual.

Perhaps this is why the finale of My Best Friend's Wedding seems admissible. For the first time in the film, Roberts appears at peace with herself. As she toasts the newlyweds and loans them the song she and her best friend of the title shared, she is undoubtedly her most endearing. After all, Julia Roberts is smiling her famous smile. We leave the cinema knowing she will be just fine.

Certainly all of today's romantic comedies are not downers. And even though My Best Friend's Wedding finishes on a bittersweet note, each character is at least having a good time at the party. Are people in the 90s settling for entertaining, true-to-life portrayals of relationships in the place of a classic love story? As Rupert Everett's character observes, "There may not be sex, there may not be romance, but by God, there'll be dancing!"

A quick investigation of other recent films supports this general trend. Good Will Hunting's plot focuses almost entirely on the development of its young hero, Will Hunting (Matt Damon). In fact, the romance plot decidedly takes backseat to the bildungsroman theme.

The story of a math genius who was horribly abused as a child does not start when Will meets Skylar (Minnie Driver) at a Harvard bar. Instead, the film gets going when the young hero is introduced to a psychiatrist (Robin Williams) and proclaims, "Let the healing begin!"

It is only after this "healing" is achieved that Will can attend to other aspects of his life, both professionally and romantically. Indeed, the climax of the film occurs when Will and his shrink recognize the intensity of their father-son relationship – Will finally lets someone get close to him. Ironically, he does not first achieve intimacy with his romantic interest, but with his psychiatrist.

In fact, Skylar and Will are not seen together for the last part of the film. Director Gus Van Sant's underlying theme is fully expressed once Will overcomes the trauma of his childhood by accepting a father figure.

Although at the film's conclusion Will leaves South Boston to "go see about a girl," the film concentrates instead on the impact of this decision on Will's relationship with his friends. In the film's denouement, Will's best friend Chuckie (Ben Affleck) arrives to pick him up for work, only to discover that Will has left. The young prodigy finally comes to grips with his past by choosing to live up to his intelligence.

With this, the relationship between the friends achieves closure. Earlier on in the film, Chuckie tells Will the best part of his day occurs when he goes to pick up Will. If only for a split second, Chuckie hopes that Will's house will be empty and he will have left to pursue larger goals. In fact, he tells Will, "you owe it to us." Will owes it to his friends to make use of the gift that they would give anything to have.

On the other hand, there is no conclusion to Good Will Hunting's romance plot. Van Sant only alludes to the final stages of Will and Skylar's relationship in the scenes of Will's car driving out to California while the credits roll.

The pattern of the tortured individual floundering at the sight of romance is further exemplified in another holiday release – James L. Brook's As Good As It Gets. Jack Nicholson's obsessive-compulsive Melvin is dauntingly incapable of social interaction and prefers to live as a recluse.

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Interestingly, the first individual with whom Melvin achieves a relationship is Verdell, the cute dog of his loathed homosexual artist neighbor Simon (Greg Kinnear). The audience first becomes attached to Melvin as he walks down the street with Verdell. The two of them attentively avoid cracks in the sidewalk. A group of women overhear the affectionate manner in which Melvin speaks to Verdell and one remarks, "I wish a man would speak like that to me."

This is a sign that Melvin now has the potential to reach meaningful relationships with others. Before this can occur, however, Melvin needs to overcome more than a few personal issues.

Ironically, Melvin's selfishness allows him to win over the waitress, Carol (Helen Hunt) and ultimately leads him to develop significant relationships – thus ending his isolation. Melvin panics when he discovers that Carol has quit because her seven-year-old son is seriously ill. He offers to pay for first-rate medical care for Carol's son in hopes that she will return to work in order to reestablish his comfortable routine.

Melvin's unrefined manner repeatedly impedes not only the development of his relationship with Carol but also his own self-awareness. He consistently performs acts of generosity including embarking on a trip with Simon and Carol so that Simon can be reconciled with his parents and later welcoming the artist into his home.

Still, Melvin seems unaware of his love for Carol and postpones the actualization of the love plot with untimely and inappropriate comments. Eventually, Melvin inadvertently insults Carol to the point that she calls off their relationship, telling him, "You make me feel bad about myself."

Only once Simon brings Melvin to realize his love for Carol does Melvin both achieve self-awareness and the fulfillment of his love for her. The ending of the movie is anything but fairytale. Melvin ruins their first kiss and the audience remains somewhat tentative of Melvin's ability to experience real intimacy.

In sum, the real progress has not been the manifestation of the romance between Melvin and Carol but the growth of Melvin as an individual. What Carol does for Melvin is not primarily romantic, but therapeutic. As Melvin tells Carol, "You make me want to be a better man."

Is the trend towards troubled souls who must overcome personal obstacles before finding love a symptom of the nineties, a society more accepting of psychological trauma? This isn't to say that the epic romance is completely absent from today's theatre. Still, when sweeping romance occurs, it generally takes place in a different era, or as a remake of an old classic – see Great Expectations, William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet and most notably Titanic, dubbed "Romeo and Juliet on a sinking ship."

Here, obstacles to love are circumstantial, based on issues out of the hands of the characters. More than a few leave Titanic bemoaning the fact that no real-life love affair could be so intense. Unfortunately or fortunately, Hollywood tells us that today's relationships are based more on companionship than passion. This isn't as steamy as sex in the boiler room of a ship before plunging to death, but it may be far more enduring.