"Sleepless in Seattle" comes very close to being the ideal contemporary American love story, and even with my reservations about some of the things in the film, I still feel it's a very good one. It's an unpretentious little jewel that demonstrates the true values of screen writing and acting, as both are used here shamelessly and with natural grace to manipulate the emotions of the audience. I admit the story is a bit absurd, but it's also somewhat the idea. And besides, in this age where people travel hundreds of miles to meet folks they've chatted with on the internet, is it so hard to believe that a woman would cross the entire country to learn about a widower whose voice she heard on the radio? Well, the Casanova in me would like to think it's not.
The plot, though predictable, makes some daring twists. In most romantic comedies, the couple eyes each other from very early on. And although Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan do make an attractive movie-couple, they don't share even have a two-shot until the last ten minutes. For most of the movie, Mr. Hanks does not even know that Miss Ryan even exists, let alone that they are destined to be in love. It's not that he ignores her; it's because she spends most of the movie on the opposite side of the country from him. She hears him on the radio, speaking of his recently departed wife, is fascinated by what he has to say, and feels something that is best described, as the movie acknowledges, as "magic." I could use more derisory words toward somebody who would feel this way in real life about a voice, but that's good enough.
The screenplay (written by director Nora Ephron and two men—Jeff Arch and David S. Ward) is also a bit insightful on, again, an unpretentious level. It does not delve deep into the psychological state we like to call love and affection, but it does make some interesting observations. First of all, Miss Ryan's character does acknowledge time and time again how absurd it is of her to fly from New York to Seattle to learn about a man she's only heard. There are also numerous touches upon how Hollywood's perception of sex and romance befalls some people. The key moment is when Rosie O'Donnell, as Miss Ryan's best friend, tells her flat out while watching "An Affair to Remember" that what she wants is not to be in love, but "to be in love in a movie." After all, how many of us—single and once-single—have not looked at movies like "Casablanca," "An Affair to Remember," "At First Sight," and such and not fantasized about passion that only seems to exist when an actor and actress play make-believe before a camera?
Speaking of other films: that is another thing I adored about "Sleepless in Seattle." It has an uncanny ability to recall other films to effect—sometimes comedic, sometimes insightful. A favorite moment of mine is when Mr. Hanks explains to his eight-year-old son (extremely well-acted by Ross Malinger) why he is uncomfortable about rushing into a new relationship so soon: he asks him if he ever saw "Fatal Attraction." The biggest homage(s), though, goes back to "An Affair to Remember." That wonderful 1957 film is shown on television screens numerous times throughout the movie, and at key points, Hugo Friedhofer's score even plays on the soundtrack. Being an obvious admirer of the said film, I found the references quite delightful and charming.
If there is one thing I couldn't stand about "Sleepless in Seattle," I would have had to have been the constant usage of classic songs to carry along sequences. The opening credits display while a very jazzy version of "As Time Goes By" thumps in the background, but numbers such as "Stand By Your Man," "Stardust," and others are ever-present, reducing fine scenes into what appear to be limp music videos. There is a potentially great moment—reduced to a merely good one—where Miss Ryan, having traveled to Seattle, watches Mr. Hanks and his son as they play on the beach. It's a very good scene (Miss Ryan is kept at medium shots, Mr. Hanks and Mr. Malinger at distance, the montage is very nice) but the song playing in the background trivializes it. The film's musical score by Marc Shaiman is just fine, and I would have preferred to hear his piano motifs instead of a song.
Only the movies can convince that two people could fall into deep, passionate love upon first sight. "Sleepless in Seattle" is one of the defining examples of that theory. After all, if Mr. Hanks and Miss Ryan could have such strong chemistry when they are not even sharing the same frame, one can only imagine what would lay down the road for their characters (and how moved we would be). But what is best about this movie—apart from the fabulous writing and acting—is its unostentatious manner. It does not make itself out to be any big deal, and just lets the romantic chemistry emerge on its admittedly old-fashioned terms. And I was more interested in the relationship between these people who have never met as opposed to most formula-films where the cute-boy meets cute-girl, they ogle for an hour, hate one another for twenty minutes, and reconcile at the end. "Sleepless in Seattle" is one of the more significant romantic comedies of the last 20 years.
The plot, though predictable, makes some daring twists. In most romantic comedies, the couple eyes each other from very early on. And although Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan do make an attractive movie-couple, they don't share even have a two-shot until the last ten minutes. For most of the movie, Mr. Hanks does not even know that Miss Ryan even exists, let alone that they are destined to be in love. It's not that he ignores her; it's because she spends most of the movie on the opposite side of the country from him. She hears him on the radio, speaking of his recently departed wife, is fascinated by what he has to say, and feels something that is best described, as the movie acknowledges, as "magic." I could use more derisory words toward somebody who would feel this way in real life about a voice, but that's good enough.
The screenplay (written by director Nora Ephron and two men—Jeff Arch and David S. Ward) is also a bit insightful on, again, an unpretentious level. It does not delve deep into the psychological state we like to call love and affection, but it does make some interesting observations. First of all, Miss Ryan's character does acknowledge time and time again how absurd it is of her to fly from New York to Seattle to learn about a man she's only heard. There are also numerous touches upon how Hollywood's perception of sex and romance befalls some people. The key moment is when Rosie O'Donnell, as Miss Ryan's best friend, tells her flat out while watching "An Affair to Remember" that what she wants is not to be in love, but "to be in love in a movie." After all, how many of us—single and once-single—have not looked at movies like "Casablanca," "An Affair to Remember," "At First Sight," and such and not fantasized about passion that only seems to exist when an actor and actress play make-believe before a camera?
Speaking of other films: that is another thing I adored about "Sleepless in Seattle." It has an uncanny ability to recall other films to effect—sometimes comedic, sometimes insightful. A favorite moment of mine is when Mr. Hanks explains to his eight-year-old son (extremely well-acted by Ross Malinger) why he is uncomfortable about rushing into a new relationship so soon: he asks him if he ever saw "Fatal Attraction." The biggest homage(s), though, goes back to "An Affair to Remember." That wonderful 1957 film is shown on television screens numerous times throughout the movie, and at key points, Hugo Friedhofer's score even plays on the soundtrack. Being an obvious admirer of the said film, I found the references quite delightful and charming.
If there is one thing I couldn't stand about "Sleepless in Seattle," I would have had to have been the constant usage of classic songs to carry along sequences. The opening credits display while a very jazzy version of "As Time Goes By" thumps in the background, but numbers such as "Stand By Your Man," "Stardust," and others are ever-present, reducing fine scenes into what appear to be limp music videos. There is a potentially great moment—reduced to a merely good one—where Miss Ryan, having traveled to Seattle, watches Mr. Hanks and his son as they play on the beach. It's a very good scene (Miss Ryan is kept at medium shots, Mr. Hanks and Mr. Malinger at distance, the montage is very nice) but the song playing in the background trivializes it. The film's musical score by Marc Shaiman is just fine, and I would have preferred to hear his piano motifs instead of a song.
Only the movies can convince that two people could fall into deep, passionate love upon first sight. "Sleepless in Seattle" is one of the defining examples of that theory. After all, if Mr. Hanks and Miss Ryan could have such strong chemistry when they are not even sharing the same frame, one can only imagine what would lay down the road for their characters (and how moved we would be). But what is best about this movie—apart from the fabulous writing and acting—is its unostentatious manner. It does not make itself out to be any big deal, and just lets the romantic chemistry emerge on its admittedly old-fashioned terms. And I was more interested in the relationship between these people who have never met as opposed to most formula-films where the cute-boy meets cute-girl, they ogle for an hour, hate one another for twenty minutes, and reconcile at the end. "Sleepless in Seattle" is one of the more significant romantic comedies of the last 20 years.