Dir. Nora Ephron, US, 1993, 105 mins
Cast: Tom Hanks, Meg Ryan, Ross Malinger, Bill Pullman, Rita Wilson
Review by Richard Mellor
Perhaps one of the more impossible questions in our weird and wonderful world of celluloid is this: what is so good about Sleepless in Seattle? Because undoubtedly it is good: brilliant for it’s kind, seminal even. It has the effect of hot chocolate when you have the flu, of the most incredibly soothing teddy bear, of a log fire at Christmas. To summarise in brief, it is nice: the picture eschews happiness, goodwill, optimism… but how exactly?
Firstly, numerous things are right with it – from the basic elements onwards. As Sam, Hanks is all wisecracks and bitterness, but romantic idol and parent-of-the-year softie underneath. Meanwhile Ryan is comfortingly ditzy insecurity, mixed with mind-blowing cuteness, as Annie. Both are funny, reassuringly good-looking, ideal people. Josh resonates with childish charm, and son-of-the-year kindness to boot. And naturally, all their friends are funny, reassuringly less good-looking, ideal chums. Most pivotally, the chemistry between the two leads is firmly in place; as they gawp at each other across a reassuringly crowded street, a sparkling chord of mutual attraction is struck.
Further, the script and plot are more than sufficient for a romantic weepie. In a genre where cliché and repetition come so easily, the ‘boy phones radio in search of wife for bereaved dad’ twist still excites as a novel angle. From this stirring opening on, Ephron’s movie resonates with just the right balances of humour and tears, and is brimful of perfect sequences of both. Hanks’ scenes with potential partner Victoria (Barbara Garrick) particularly delight, full as they are for us of disgust (for the odorous Victoria) and glee (at Josh’s patent, mischievous dislike for her). Never is it overly mawkish, or brashly humorous. Instead, the two go perfectly hand in hand, just like our leads.
And even the direction is smart and capable. The sheer magic of romance and love is never forgotten; the devout homage to old weepies and matinee idols sets the goalposts defiantly. Hanks and Ryan even manage to meet atop the Empire State Building, re-enacting An Affair To Remember. Love is viewed as prospectors might react to gold: the holiest, most wonderful thing to seek out. Such positive faith is nigh impossible to resist – even Scrooge might like this one. The score contains the expected magical, syrupy ballads; but the common denominator is an upbeat tempo, and a defiant happiness, inherent with the film as a whole.
All of these elements are merely good, though. What truly elevates the drama above average is the sheer comfort of the film, the luxurious, paradisical world it inhabits. Everything is perfect: the coffee shop Ryan stops in has one white lady and one black lady. Both are funny, and joyous souls. Even at his tender age, Josh has a lovely girlfriend, and can board transcontinental planes. It’s even Christmas and New Year here. And so it goes on, be it Seattle, Chicago or Baltimore; America becomes some form of Elysium, just like in the old movies so idealised here. In this world, everyone can meet someone like Sam who lives a continent’s length away, and have it be perfect, and discover romance, love, and hope. Everyone is wealthy, backed up by great friends, and everyone gets to say memorable lines. Crucially, no one is lost and lonely, or altogether devoid of hope, in this mystical landscape.
On top of all of the other well-oiled parts of this vehicle, the picture can hardly go wrong with such zealous optimism and genial simplicity as this. It is this grace, this class, this wonderfully perfect terrain that Ephron pitches her tent into, which truly elevates her film above any standard slush. Few other films can leave you so content and hopeful at their conclusion. And in a romantic comedy, that’s really all you need…
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