Dear Reader,
Welcome back to my column! Thanks to the one and only movie review submission I received last semester, today I’ll be revisiting Rob Reiner’s classic, heartwarming, Valentine’s-perfect “When Harry Met Sally…” (1989) — easily one of my all-time favorite comfort rewatches.
The film follows a slow relationship between Harry Burns (Billy Crystal) and Sally Albright (Meg Ryan), who first meet during a carpool back to New York following their graduation from the University of Chicago. Their initial drive is marked by everything but chemistry, centering around a heated debate over whether purely platonic friendships can exist between heterosexual men and women: Harry says no, while Sally remains optimistically unconvinced of his argument. At this stage, they are hardly even friends, bonding only over their shared appreciation for the classic film “Casablanca” (1942), but even their takes on the characters in the movie differ.
Five years later, they cross paths again on a flight: Sally is dating Harry’s neighbor Joe, while Harry is engaged to Helen. Then, another five years pass before they run into each other at a bookstore, this time both single. They finally begin a friendship where they get to know each other. Their fears and vulnerabilities break down, and intimacy develops through the subtle ways they care and understand each other. Another year passes and, at a New Year’s party, Harry finally confesses his love for Sally. They get married three months later, 12 years after they first met.
The 1989 romantic comedy arguably defines the ideal slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers relationship. It outshines, in my opinion, Kat and Patrick’s dynamic in “10 Things I Hate About You” (1999), not through any grand plot breakthrough or cinematic artistry but through their chic, intimate, shared romantic gestures — such as bonding over their shared love for the movie “Casablanca.” And unlike “Love, Rosie” (2014), which leans on intentionally plotted, rage-inducing obstacles to purposefully keep its protagonists apart again and again, Reiner’s film grounds its romance in its characters. The resulting effect is that we feel optimistic — though a little cringey — about the coincidental run-ins between the two, instead of immediately dismissing these moments as overly frustrating or unrealistic. Reiner captures the quiet osmosis of two people who, over time, subconsciously compromise, adapt to each other’s habits and grow alongside one another. Ultimately, they realize they’ve fallen in love, not only through the bits and pieces of life they’ve shared but also through the different versions of themselves brought about by the other.
The moments of silence in the film — which a contemporary remake would likely stuff with overly self-aware, cringey dialogue, as if the screen simply cannot tolerate silence anymore — only enhance the romantic tension between the two lovers. Reiner allows emotion to surface through mere facial expressions and body language, trusting that the audience can understand without excessive words being spoken. Sometimes, very little needs to be explicitly said for meaning to land, almost exactly the same as when two people are in love and can simply understand each other without lengthy explanations.
My favorite exchange from the movie goes as follows:
Harry: There are two kinds of women: high maintenance and low maintenance.
Sally: Which one am I?
Harry: You’re the worst kind; you’re high maintenance, but you think you’re low maintenance.
Sally: I don’t see that.
Harry: You don’t see that? Waiter, I’ll begin with a house salad, but I don’t want the regular dressing. I’ll have the balsamic vinegar and oil but on the side. And then the salmon with the mustard sauce, but I want the mustard sauce on the side. ‘On the side’ is a very big thing for you.
Sally: Well, I just want it the way I want it.
Harry: I know; high maintenance.
They can tease each other, be completely frank and still reveal something softer underneath, like, ‘Okay, I do have an issue with you, but because I adore you, I can live with it.’ And it’s in these subtle moments that we begin to understand how deeply true affection really runs.
Leah Amlesh writes on CNN that romcoms are separate from other movies in that they are “a bit more carefree and optimistic,” and I would argue that’s just what we need a little more of in this day and age. “When Harry Met Sally…” exemplifies just that — it shows the subtleties of love in a way that no amount of rewatching can render boring. With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, this would be a great rewatch or, if you are seeing it for the first time, a great new discovery that will not disappoint.
On that note, some of my other honorable mentions for great romcoms to watch with your beloved for the upcoming Valentine’s Day include: “Pretty Woman” (1990), “About Time” (2013), “Singin’ in the Rain” (1952), “Sleepless in Seattle” (1993) and “You’ve Got Mail” (1998)!
Is there a film that you would like to see me write about in my next column? Submit it here!
