The writer responsible for the biggest British hits of the last ten years – Four Weddings And A Funeral, Notting Hill, Bridget Jones’s Diary – directs Love Actually, a vibrant romantic comedy, blending ambition with good sense by filling the profuse parts of his multi-storied script with excellent, experienced actors, and rising young stars.
And boobs. I should definitely point that out.
A new British Prime Minister is elected, and finds himself attracted to a staffer. A newly widowed step-father tries to build a relationship with the step-son he must raise alone, and in the process teach him the intricacies of love. A newly married bride discovers her husband’s best friend is secretly in love with her. A happily married executive encourages employee romance in his workplace, while being tempted away from his wife by a younger woman. A novelist catches his brother with the woman he loves, and flees to France where he falls for his housekeeper, a woman whose language he cannot speak. A washed up rock star attempts to launch a comeback by pushing a horrible re-rendering of one of his classics into a Christmas song. His only marketing strategy is to, in a hilarious turn, beg for people to buy it while admitting it is total crap. Then there’s two body doubles who develop a mutual attraction while filming substitute nudity on a second tier movie set.
Welcome to the world of Love Actually. It’s a movie that quite obviously presses the emotional buttons, but the film does it so well you won’t care. Ten stories intertwine, loosely connected by friends of friends, family and next-door-neighbors. Inevitably, some strands are almost forgotten and actors underused. A soft focus Short Cuts, the movie lacks the layered fluency of Robert Altman’s work – or the hard edge. But while there’s enough treacle to turn a bee diabetic, it is not without raw emotional moments – with Emma Thompson outstanding in a tear-duct tingling scene.
Curtis’s gags are generally spot-on, particularly after the film finds its footing. A touching finale makes up for some of the earlier dragging, and cameos galore will entertain the movie snobs in the audience. Just don’t go and spoil it by looking up the credits on the Internet.
Will it seal the deal? Subjecting a loved one to this movie won’t result in being in trouble. Also, if you’re single, subjecting even just yourself to this movie isn’t a bad thing. So, should this movie be recommended to a person attempting to get some actual “love, actually” for the evening? No doubt. It’s cute, it’s charming, and it’s actually pretty witty. I mean, where else will you find Hugh Grant as a geopolitical figure and Mr. Bean as the sales clerk from hell? Plus, you know, hey-there are boobs.