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Plot and Romance! Not in opposition!
So I've been saying for a long time that EWFS doesn't have a plot, mostly because it doesn't have an adventure plot. Then I saw this dicussion about plot structure in Holly's journal and realized, wow, my plot was actually fairly tight. I had always known that EWFS was very tightly structured, mostly because I think comedies work better that way; they have a beat and you can dance to it as the kids say. What I hadn't realized is how much I had internalized filmic plot structures. This makes sense, as of course I was a film scholar in a previous life, but it is interesting to see that I pulled it off. (Anyway, check the 7-point structure for a genre short story, and you can see the s/d arc from EWFS.)
I also noted that wow, in many ways I just don't belong in this fandom, because I really don't care about that hero's journey AT ALL. It's all about good and evil as external forces, which I'm not that interested in; it's also about a central character and how everyone else helps them, which I also don't like, given my love for minor characters and ensemble casts. But it's good to be able to articulate why I don't find them all that interesting--and why really, in comparison, I like fanfic.
(I would also say here that however much HP mirrors this structure, it has so many other things going on, and is so clearly also a coming-of-age story, that there is more than enough to keep me going.)
Now the thing about romance and adventure is, if you're going to have both you really have to start out that way, OR, you have to have the adventure as something that horribly interrupts the romance. But you can't plonck the adventure down just before the end of the romance because you forgot to include it from the beginning. I have said this before and I'll say it again: If the romance is good, it is actually enough.
Of course, as you'll see from the list below, the way I conceive of romance is not just, two people meet and fall in love, but more, two people meet and could fall in love, but they are fallible and get distracted by things that may or may not be important and may be internal or external, all things that have to get resolved before the romance can conclude. That's really what's lacking in post-1965 romantic comedies; they think they have to invent artificial devices to keep the characters apart. But if you look at the classics, what keeps them apart, most of the time, is themselves.
In chronological order, not preference order:
Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy, from Pride and Prejudice written by Jane Austen (1813). Because you can thank her, and Billy the Bard, for the entire romantic comedy genre. Because Darcy loves Lizzie for her spirit. Because they are decidedly imperfect people who want to become better for each other. Because Austen gives us a glimpse of the adventure of their married life.
Agnes Wickfield and David Copperfield, from David Copperfield written by Charles Dickens (1848). Because family is so important to both of them. Because Agnes really saves herself. Because "I have loved you all my life" actually works out for her. (cf, Carrie and John from Sex and the City)
Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe, from Anne of Green Gables, et al. written by Lucy Maud Montgomery (1908). Because Gilbert says that being smart is better than being pretty. Because he doesn't sit idly by while she pursues her ideal but doesn't make an ass of himself either. Because he doesn't want her to come down from her faerie world. Because in their first year of marriage they survived the death of a child and a fight important enough to nearly ruin their marriage, but they both stuck to what they believed was right. Because after years of marriage she loves him enough to have a massive attack of jealous insecurity, even though he only has eyes for her.
Harriet Vane and Lord Peter Wimsey, from Strong Poison, et al. written by Dorothy L. Sayers (1930). Because she doesn't fall in love with him just because he saved her from the gallows. Because he lived for months on a belated notice in Punch. Because there isn't a more reluctantly inevitable love story out there. Because in the end all he could give her was Oxford and that was already hers. Because they will leave the harmony to others and take the counterpoint, and with no shabby tigers, either.
Hildegaard "Hildy" Johnson and Walter Burns, from His Girl Friday directed by Howard Hawks (1940). Because it takes a cynical comedic play and makes it into a romance without skipping a beat. Because Walter can't be trusted for a second. Because of course Hildy doesn't really want to move to Albany. Because when I was nine I wanted to be Hildy. Because they could not possibly spend more than five minutes with anyone else.
Liz Imbrie and Macauley "Mike" Connor, from The Philadelphia Story directed by George Cukor (1940). Because the best story isn't always the main one. Because he has a lot to learn and she doesn't want to get in his way for a little while. Because there's a difference between what seems romantic, given moonlight and champagne, and what feels like love when you're wincing in the noonday sun. "Because Liz wouldn't like it."
Laura Hunt and Mark McPherson, from Laura directed by Otto Preminger (1944). Because, like a Shakespearean romance, they pull a happy ending out of a tragic set up. Because when she came back "he was glad to see me, as though he were waiting for me." Because he can see that she isn't a dame. Because she saves herself and he just finishes the job.
Fran Kubelik and Calvin Clifford "C.C." "Bud" Baxter, from The Apartment directed by Billy Wilder (1960). Because they bond over botched suicide attempts. Because he strains pasta with a tennis raquet. Because they both wish they could be the most cynical of tough cookies, but they both have a hidden soft center. Because life in the big city is complicated, love-wise. Because the last line is "Shut up and deal."
Holly Golightly and Paul "Fred" Varjak, from Breakfast at Tiffany's directed by Blake Edwards (1961). Because they're both on the take at the start. Because Holly doesn't want to love anyone except her brother. Because in the book Paul is gay but the film doesn't feel like a cop out (cf, any film from a Tennessee Williams play). Because Tiffany's will engrave a ring from a Cracker Jack box. Because Holly will bring her brats back to New York "because they must see this". "Because no matter where you run you're always gonna end up running into yourself."
Monica Geller and Chandler Bing, from Friends created by David Crane and Marta Kauffman (1994-2004). Because they were the most unlikely, yet the ones who could teach each other the most. Because neither of them loved the other from their first meeting, yet they'd known each other for years. Because Ross had nothing to do with it. Because they each love how completely crazy the other one is. Because their relationship made the show even funnier (cf, Ross and Rachel). Because the romance doesn't end at the first kiss or at "I do".
Honorable Mentions:
Hermione and Leontes from The Winter's Tale written by William Shakespeare. The original "I am going to wait over here for you to get your shit together, and once you do, maybe I'll come back."
Ellie Andrews and Peter Warne, from It Happened One Night directed by Frank Capra (1934). Since they both could stand to learn a thing or two.
Penelope "Penny" Carroll and John "Lucky" Garnett, from Swing Time directed by George Stevens (1936). A stand in for all the other Fred-Ginger couples, though these two are my favorites. Every word is important, even when they don't seem to be saying anything at all.
Tracy Samantha Lord and C.K. Dexter Haven, from The Philadelphia Story directed by George Cukor (1940). Okay, so the A story is pretty good, too--mostly for the look of complete panic on Dext's face when Mike asks Tracy to marry him. After all his machinations, he's still not sure, and that is hopeful.
Laura and Rob Petrie, from The Dick Van Dyke Show created by Carl Reiner (1961-1966). The sexiest suburban couple ever. Makes you want to buy some capri pants and move to New Rochelle. Almost.
Christina Blake Bauer Thorpe and Ross Marler, from Guiding Light created by Irna Philips (1952-). During the mid 80s, they were the best--sexy and crazy and loving and wonderful and completely improbable, yet they worked.
Samantha Baker and Jake Ryan, from Sixteen Candles directed by John Hughes (1984). I love that he confesses his interest in her to his buddy while doing pullups.
Tracy Turnblad and Link Larkin, from Hairspray directed by John Waters (1988). Wherein the fat girl gets the heartthrob by dancing a mean Madison.
Ann and Graham, from Sex, Lies, and Videotape directed by Stephen Soderburgh (1989). Oh, they are so very fucked up.
Max and Ely, from Go Fish directed by Rose Troche (1994). The movie is a little weak, but the romance isn't. Another time when it's good to give someone a second look.
Tom Collins and Angel, from Rent, music lyrics and book by Jonathan Larson (1996). It's all about "Cover You".
David Fisher and Keith Charles, from Six Feet Under created by Alan Ball (2001-). They are completely and absolutely great, and they work very hard at it. Let's see where the SFU arc takes them.
I also noted that wow, in many ways I just don't belong in this fandom, because I really don't care about that hero's journey AT ALL. It's all about good and evil as external forces, which I'm not that interested in; it's also about a central character and how everyone else helps them, which I also don't like, given my love for minor characters and ensemble casts. But it's good to be able to articulate why I don't find them all that interesting--and why really, in comparison, I like fanfic.
(I would also say here that however much HP mirrors this structure, it has so many other things going on, and is so clearly also a coming-of-age story, that there is more than enough to keep me going.)
Now the thing about romance and adventure is, if you're going to have both you really have to start out that way, OR, you have to have the adventure as something that horribly interrupts the romance. But you can't plonck the adventure down just before the end of the romance because you forgot to include it from the beginning. I have said this before and I'll say it again: If the romance is good, it is actually enough.
Of course, as you'll see from the list below, the way I conceive of romance is not just, two people meet and fall in love, but more, two people meet and could fall in love, but they are fallible and get distracted by things that may or may not be important and may be internal or external, all things that have to get resolved before the romance can conclude. That's really what's lacking in post-1965 romantic comedies; they think they have to invent artificial devices to keep the characters apart. But if you look at the classics, what keeps them apart, most of the time, is themselves.
In chronological order, not preference order:
Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy, from Pride and Prejudice written by Jane Austen (1813). Because you can thank her, and Billy the Bard, for the entire romantic comedy genre. Because Darcy loves Lizzie for her spirit. Because they are decidedly imperfect people who want to become better for each other. Because Austen gives us a glimpse of the adventure of their married life.
Agnes Wickfield and David Copperfield, from David Copperfield written by Charles Dickens (1848). Because family is so important to both of them. Because Agnes really saves herself. Because "I have loved you all my life" actually works out for her. (cf, Carrie and John from Sex and the City)
Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe, from Anne of Green Gables, et al. written by Lucy Maud Montgomery (1908). Because Gilbert says that being smart is better than being pretty. Because he doesn't sit idly by while she pursues her ideal but doesn't make an ass of himself either. Because he doesn't want her to come down from her faerie world. Because in their first year of marriage they survived the death of a child and a fight important enough to nearly ruin their marriage, but they both stuck to what they believed was right. Because after years of marriage she loves him enough to have a massive attack of jealous insecurity, even though he only has eyes for her.
Harriet Vane and Lord Peter Wimsey, from Strong Poison, et al. written by Dorothy L. Sayers (1930). Because she doesn't fall in love with him just because he saved her from the gallows. Because he lived for months on a belated notice in Punch. Because there isn't a more reluctantly inevitable love story out there. Because in the end all he could give her was Oxford and that was already hers. Because they will leave the harmony to others and take the counterpoint, and with no shabby tigers, either.
Hildegaard "Hildy" Johnson and Walter Burns, from His Girl Friday directed by Howard Hawks (1940). Because it takes a cynical comedic play and makes it into a romance without skipping a beat. Because Walter can't be trusted for a second. Because of course Hildy doesn't really want to move to Albany. Because when I was nine I wanted to be Hildy. Because they could not possibly spend more than five minutes with anyone else.
Liz Imbrie and Macauley "Mike" Connor, from The Philadelphia Story directed by George Cukor (1940). Because the best story isn't always the main one. Because he has a lot to learn and she doesn't want to get in his way for a little while. Because there's a difference between what seems romantic, given moonlight and champagne, and what feels like love when you're wincing in the noonday sun. "Because Liz wouldn't like it."
Laura Hunt and Mark McPherson, from Laura directed by Otto Preminger (1944). Because, like a Shakespearean romance, they pull a happy ending out of a tragic set up. Because when she came back "he was glad to see me, as though he were waiting for me." Because he can see that she isn't a dame. Because she saves herself and he just finishes the job.
Fran Kubelik and Calvin Clifford "C.C." "Bud" Baxter, from The Apartment directed by Billy Wilder (1960). Because they bond over botched suicide attempts. Because he strains pasta with a tennis raquet. Because they both wish they could be the most cynical of tough cookies, but they both have a hidden soft center. Because life in the big city is complicated, love-wise. Because the last line is "Shut up and deal."
Holly Golightly and Paul "Fred" Varjak, from Breakfast at Tiffany's directed by Blake Edwards (1961). Because they're both on the take at the start. Because Holly doesn't want to love anyone except her brother. Because in the book Paul is gay but the film doesn't feel like a cop out (cf, any film from a Tennessee Williams play). Because Tiffany's will engrave a ring from a Cracker Jack box. Because Holly will bring her brats back to New York "because they must see this". "Because no matter where you run you're always gonna end up running into yourself."
Monica Geller and Chandler Bing, from Friends created by David Crane and Marta Kauffman (1994-2004). Because they were the most unlikely, yet the ones who could teach each other the most. Because neither of them loved the other from their first meeting, yet they'd known each other for years. Because Ross had nothing to do with it. Because they each love how completely crazy the other one is. Because their relationship made the show even funnier (cf, Ross and Rachel). Because the romance doesn't end at the first kiss or at "I do".
Honorable Mentions:
Hermione and Leontes from The Winter's Tale written by William Shakespeare. The original "I am going to wait over here for you to get your shit together, and once you do, maybe I'll come back."
Ellie Andrews and Peter Warne, from It Happened One Night directed by Frank Capra (1934). Since they both could stand to learn a thing or two.
Penelope "Penny" Carroll and John "Lucky" Garnett, from Swing Time directed by George Stevens (1936). A stand in for all the other Fred-Ginger couples, though these two are my favorites. Every word is important, even when they don't seem to be saying anything at all.
Tracy Samantha Lord and C.K. Dexter Haven, from The Philadelphia Story directed by George Cukor (1940). Okay, so the A story is pretty good, too--mostly for the look of complete panic on Dext's face when Mike asks Tracy to marry him. After all his machinations, he's still not sure, and that is hopeful.
Laura and Rob Petrie, from The Dick Van Dyke Show created by Carl Reiner (1961-1966). The sexiest suburban couple ever. Makes you want to buy some capri pants and move to New Rochelle. Almost.
Christina Blake Bauer Thorpe and Ross Marler, from Guiding Light created by Irna Philips (1952-). During the mid 80s, they were the best--sexy and crazy and loving and wonderful and completely improbable, yet they worked.
Samantha Baker and Jake Ryan, from Sixteen Candles directed by John Hughes (1984). I love that he confesses his interest in her to his buddy while doing pullups.
Tracy Turnblad and Link Larkin, from Hairspray directed by John Waters (1988). Wherein the fat girl gets the heartthrob by dancing a mean Madison.
Ann and Graham, from Sex, Lies, and Videotape directed by Stephen Soderburgh (1989). Oh, they are so very fucked up.
Max and Ely, from Go Fish directed by Rose Troche (1994). The movie is a little weak, but the romance isn't. Another time when it's good to give someone a second look.
Tom Collins and Angel, from Rent, music lyrics and book by Jonathan Larson (1996). It's all about "Cover You".
David Fisher and Keith Charles, from Six Feet Under created by Alan Ball (2001-). They are completely and absolutely great, and they work very hard at it. Let's see where the SFU arc takes them.