Chapter 1
Romantic Comedy Cute Meets
In The Holiday (2006, written and directed by Nancy Meyers), Arthur, an ancient screenwriter (played by Eli Wallach), explains to Iris (Kate Winslet) about the Cute Meet, or the Meet Cute, as he calls it, in classic Hollywood movies. He tells her how in old movies a woman would come into a department store, to the menswear counter, and ask to buy a man’s pajama top. She likes to sleep in these and doesn’t need the bottoms. They tell her they can only sell them in pairs. She is frustrated. Just then a handsome man comes in wanting to buy just a pair of pajama bottoms. He doesn’t wear the tops. They look at each other and “ding”, a little light goes off inside. They buy the pjs together, she takes the top, he takes the bottoms, and they go their separate ways. For the moment. While the entire audience longs for that pair of pajamas to be reunited. In bed. Obviously.
The Cute Meet is a Hollywood Institution. You’ve seen it a hundred times. They don’t have to be cute. Not all love stories are romantic comedies. Some are tragedies. Some dramas. Or Western, sci-fi, fantasy, horror. Any genre can and often does include a love story. In some the love story is the B story or subplot. The essential element in all of these “Meets” is that there is a small electric charge. An energy between these two people. Potential. A spark. This is important. They feel it, even if they don’t realize it. More importantly, the audience feels it and already begins to root for these two to come together, sometimes before the characters even want it themselves. Why will the audience feel it? Because you, the writer, are going to make them feel it. How?
Let’s take the engine apart and see exactly how it works.
In Walk the Line, June Carter (Reese Witherspoon) runs through the wings toward the stage of the Ryman Auditorium in 1955 Nashville, late for her cue, and collides with Johnny Cash’s (Joaquin Phoenix) guitar and her dress gets caught on it.
To get free, she finally has to tear off a piece of the red chiffon dress and hands it to Johnny, telling him quickly that she loves that “Cry” song, by the way. And she’s gone. And he’s left backstage in the dark holding a piece of her dress while the unseen audience applauds her entrance. This is a cute meet. Are they in love yet? No. Not yet. But something is up. Definitely.
It’s good to make the cute meet symbolic when you can. A piece of her dress represents her body. It’s chiffon, as light as her spirit maybe. Red? Heart? Symbols are the writer’s domain. It’s up to you to create some when you can. Do you think he’s going to throw away that small bit of fabric from her dress? Probably not. He will probably touch it, smell it, imagine her. So this small device becomes not just a touchstone, but a hope of something more.
In Notting Hill (1999, written by Richard Curtis) William (Hugh Grant) first meets Anna (Julia Roberts) when the movie star wanders into his Travel Book Shop in the title neighborhood in London. But the real cute meet happens a few minutes later when they literally run into each other on the street and he spills orange juice all over her shirt. Requiring that she change. And he has a flat a few yards away. Where she, or rather they, can go. So she can, well, take her shirt off.
After the book shop, it is extremely unlikely that they will ever see each other again.
After the orange-juiced shirt, it seems less far-fetched. Something has changed.
The Goodbye Girl (1977, written by Neil Simon) begins with Paula (Marsha Mason) being dumped by her boyfriend Tony who has gone off to shoot a movie in Italy. He is an actor. Paula is left with her 10-year-old daughter, Lucy, no job, nothing but a Dear Jane note and his apartment. Then in the middle of the night, during a torrential rainstorm, there’s a banging on the door, and it is Elliot Garfield (Richard Dreyfuss, who won an Oscar for this role). It turns out good old Tony has sublet the apartment out from under them to Elliot who spent all his money on the rent, and is in New York to play Richard III, Off Broadway. Possibly Off Off. Problem. He has the legal sub-lease agreement. She has possession which is nine-tenths of the fun. They can’t both win, or can they? They finally agree to share the apartment for the summer. Little Lucy will bunk in with Mom, leaving Elliot the other bedroom.
One Fine Day (1996, written by Terrel Seltzer and Ellen Simon) has Jack (George Clooney) and Melanie (Michele Pfeiffer) showing up at the locked pre-school door with their respective tots, having missed the all-day field trip since someone (Jack!) forgot to call his phone tree buddy and let her know. So both kids have missed the bus and the boat and are stuck with their single parents on a day when both Jack and Melanie have critically important career stuff going on. Eventually, they come to the only possible solution. Each of them will watch both kids while the other makes that critical meeting. Hilarity ensues. And love. In spite of the fact that at 8 A.M., they can’t stand each other, or any other divorced men or women on earth.