It feels like every Christmas a bunch of opinion pieces decrying the sins of 2003 classic Love Actually crawl out of the pipe works. A cynic may even suggest that the aim of such publicity is the equivalent of pantomime designed to get the film back in the public consciousness? Given that such articles led me to rekindle my warm memories of the stories involved and watch the film again, if that was the real goal, then it has been successful.
This year, even the films brilliant producer, Richard Curtis has been getting in on the self flagellation and repudiation of the film, claiming that the film was not diverse enough. I beg to differ. In fact, I think you will be hard pressed to find an equal in terms of the diversity of characters and human emotions on display in a single 2 hour and 15 minute masterpiece.
It’s unusual for me to be singing the praises a film in the category of “Romantic comedy”, a category of such insipid and predictable storylines, completely devoid of depth, that a precipitously place vomit bag may be in order. It’s always the same, insecure woman meets flawed man who becomes besotted with her and falls all over himself to win the fair maiden. She resists until his persistent charm avails and Rapunzel doth let down her hair for her prince. Said prince’s rough edges, remoulded as he changes for her.
Many of Richard Curtis’s other films follow said path, especially Notting Hill and Four Weddings and a Funeral, but I’ll forgive him this indulgence for the brilliant observational comedy he has blessed upon us in the form of Blackadder, Mr Bean and the Vicar of Dibley.
Love Actually reminds me of the work of another British screen write, Jimmy McGovern and his gritty northern drama series, The Street. In The Street, each episode focused on a specific story of a certain character and the tribulations they faced. Each character, relatable, human, flawed. The other characters dovetail around each other as minor actors in each others story. It creates this sense of a community rather than just individual tails of love and misfortune.
The same can be said of Love Actually, as there is a connection between each of the characters. There is a voyeuristic quality to it, particularly with the final airport scene that sees the various characters reuniting with there loved ones, something that rings authentic with how our modern lives intertwine. Sometimes we are the minor characters in the stories of others and sometimes we play the supporting role. We all have a story, hopes, dreams, the agony and the angst, the joys and the laughter, a shared human experience that unites all despite the unique flavours of our experiences.
If you haven’t watched the film, I’m going to unveil it for you but I won’t be able to do it justice so I recommend you watch it for yourself and make your own mind up. Perhaps you won’t be impressed with the sizable dose of cheesiness, the adolescent humour or quintessential Britishness of the film, and that’s perfectly ok, diversity is not about everybody being the same or equal even, it’s about differences of opinion and mine is no more deferential than anyone else’s, just don’t watch it through the lens of ideology. The Bechdel test is not a measure of the quality of a film, it’s a measure of pretentious ideological purity masquerading as something of value. If all you do is look for sexism, racism, “heteronormativity” etc, then that is all you will find, regardless of whether it is tangible or sword fighting a fart.
I’m going to quote verbatim the opening narration of the film as I think it’s very poignant.
Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion’s starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don’t see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it’s not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it’s always there – fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge – they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that.
The narration is read over the scenes of an airport arrival haul, with people hugging and kissing as they are reunited.
The first character we meet is Billy Mack, a washed up popstar has been trying to rejuvenate his flagging career with that very British tradition of a Christmas pop song. The song is a cheesy reincarnation of a 90s classic pop song “Love is all around” by Wet Wet Wet, albeit with the word Christmas replacing Love.
Bill Nighy’s character manages to achieve a Christmas number one despite several comedic promotional appearances where he is a little bit to honest for his own good. At the end of his story, he rejects the superficial celebrity of an Elton John party in order to spend time with his long suffering chubby manager Joe, played by Gregor Fisher. The bromance between the pair is sweet and resonates a lot with the kind of male mutual appreciation I recognise from my own friendships.
Next comes Liam Neeson’s character, Daniel, a recently widowed step father. To me this nod to the heartbreak of losing the ones we love is very important. For some Christmas is a joyous time of year but for the broken hearted and lonely, it can be a very difficult period filled with memories of loved ones that are no longer there.
There is the poignancy of the funeral and his attempts to connect with his young step son, who himself turns out to have a crush on a girl from his school, who is also a singer. In his attempts to woo the young lady, the boy decides to learn how to play the drums and by the end of the film, plucks up the courage to evade airport security in order to tell her how he feels, encouraged by his step dad to seize the day.
I’m sure many of us can relate to those early feelings of love and the fear of rejection. In the end, the boy gets a kiss before the older girl gives him a peck on the cheek before flying away to America.
Then there is the rogue, Colin Frissell, played by Kris Marshall. His character is full of confidence but lacking in success finding a girlfriend. Always in the background and invisible to the main characters, he still optimistically comes to the conclusion that he’s just living in the wrong country and that his English accent would bring him better luck in the United States.
Much to the surprise of his friends, Colin does head for the states and finds three girls at the first American bar he enters, all of whom are enthralled by his accent and offer to accommodate him for his trip, but being desperately poor, they only have one bed to share and can’t afford pyjamas so sleep naked.
Critics of the film see this as sexist and objectification of women. They will tell you it’s all about the “Male Gaze” but they’re entirely missing the point. The comedy is in the ridiculousness of the situation. It would not be a heart warming end for Colin if he just disappeared into the duvets at his parents dwellings. In fact, I think we can all learn from the optimism of such a character, not willing to let other people’s negativity win, he bought his lottery ticket and he won. Rather than sexist or objectifying, I think its a heart warming tail of persistence.
The story of John and Judy, played by Martin Freeman and Joanna Page is equally comedic in nature, the pair meet as stunt doubles for adult film scenes and make polite chitchat about the weather and traffic. Despite the context, the pair are quite sweet and innocent. There is a kindness to John’s character, caring about the welfare of his female colleague. It goes to show that love can be found in the places we least expect it. In the modern age of swiping for love on a smartphone, there is a lot to be said for the lost art of just meeting people at work or whilst out and about socialising.
Speaking of work colleagues, the darker side of human relationships is evident in the case of the character played by Alan Rickman. Rickman plays a middle aged father of two and company boss that allows himself to be seduced by an employee that should have known better. He’s a character designed to be the pantomime villain as his wife, played by Emma Thompson has her heart broken, firstly watching him dance with his seductress at the office Christmas party, then with the realisation that the expensive jewellery she catches him buying at a department store wasn’t actually for her but for the mistress.
By the end of the film, the pair are reunited but we do not know whether Rickman’s character will get a second chance after realising the foolishness of his behaviour or whether the couple will go their own separate ways. It’s a classic warning tail to be grateful for what you have and not chase the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow in exchange for the sunshine and showers that are much more tangible.
In the same office, we meet another lovestruck pair, designer Karl, played by Rodrigo Santoro and Sarah, played by Laura Linney. On this occassion, the boss attempts to play matchmaker by bringing the two together given the obvious attraction between the pair.
Unfortunately, things don’t go smoothly as when the pair do eventually pair up, Sarah’s brother, whom has learning and mental health issues takes priority. This story is not just about the romantic love between a man and a woman but about the familial love between two siblings and Sarah’s self sacrifice, putting the needs of her brother and his condition above her own. Perhaps one day the pair will be able to move past the hurdles involved and integrate Karl into the mix alongside her brother? Perhaps fate is a cruel master that will keep the pair apart? We don’t know. It’s the kind of dilemma that happens in real life, the course to love seldom runs smooth.
The film does a good job of exposing nuance and complexity and the love triangle between newly wed characters Peter (Chiwetal Ejofor) and Juliet (Kiera Knightly), and Peter’s best friend Mark (Andrew Lincoln) is a good example. Juliet thinks that Mark disapproves of her as he doesn’t engage with her much. Some of Mark’s family think he is secretly gay and in love with Peter. The truth is that Mark is secretly in love with Juliet but keeps himself a way because of his friendship with Peter. Sometimes we can fall in love with the wrong person or the right person at the wrong time.
The scene where Mark confesses his love in the form of written cards, whilst pretending to be a carol singer is so iconic it has even been covered by Owl Kitty.
I have seen critics describe this behaviour as stalking, which is absurd. Despite his feelings, the character sacrificed his own heart for the benefit of his friend and the woman he loved. I think that’s a very beautiful thing.
The penultimate couple from the film is that of Jamie, played by English heartthrob Colin Firth and Aurelia, played by Lucia Moniz. It’s easy to miss, but Jamie’s character begins in a relationship with another woman, whom he discovers cheating with his friend. He then spends a few weeks with hired help in the form of Aurelia, but there is just one problem. She can’t speak English, only Portuguese and his attempts to speak French are not perhaps the most useful.
The story unfolds like a two ronnies sketch where the pair each attempt to talk to each other, often saying the same thing in their native tongues but despite the linguistic barrier, a bond develops. It speaks to the idea of love enduring and being able to overcome barriers, whether that be language or culture or the acceptance of others.
After Aurelia returns home, Jamie spends his evenings learning Portuguese. He flies out to her homeland, asks her father for permission to ask her to marry him, which initially causes confusion, as there are two daughters, before a very public proposal in broken Portuguese, followed by an acceptance in English, it turns out Aurelia had been learning English too, “just in cases”.
The final couple is single British Prime Minister, David, played by Hugh Grant whom becomes infatuated with one of his staff, personal assistant Natalie, played by Martine McCutcheon who persistently ends up swearing in front of him. I can imagine the authenticity of someone like Natalie would appeal to and ground the sort of person that is used to being treated with deference.
Anyway, after a meeting with the United States President, whom attempted to use his position to seduce Natalie despite being married, the British Prime Minister stood up to the more powerful bully, and publicly humiliate him at a press conference. It’s the kind of Prime Minister us Brits can only dream of, someone whom is humble yet not prudish, principled yet honest, strong yet relatable.
The Prime Minister ends up searching the street where Natalie lives to find her after reallocating her duties, ending up sharing his car with a child dressed as an Octopus, whilst trying to apologise, as you do.
The couple are then caught kissing after their backstage view of the children’s nativity performance becomes a somewhat more public affair.
I really like the format of the film and the fact that the characters aren’t perfect. I can’t relate to some of the films made today where characters are either perfect in every way or completely clueless and devoid of depth. I’ve always preferred real life stories for this reason. Real life often writes more interesting characters than pretentious Hollywood directors or cookie cutter film studies that make films like they’re making a burger. Give me humour. Give me sadness. Give me quirky and peculiar. Give me Love, actually.


































