When Harry Met Sally's Life Lessons
overanalysing The Best romcom
I have watched a significant number of romcoms in my time. Too many? Maybe. To the detriment of my own expectations and outlook on life? Perhaps! But from my trawls of Netflix’s archives and Amazon Prime’s most low-budget offerings, I think I’ve earned the right to an opinion on the genre. There’s a certain spark that some romcoms have and others lack, an alignment of the stars that produces a film where everything just works. It’s a genre filled with chemistry-free pairings, cringe-worthy dialogue and poorly-engineered meetcutes, so when you get one that’s genuinely good — not just a great romcom, but a great film — it’s something to be valued.
One of my favourite films is When Harry Met Sally, something that everyone I know can attest to. A few years ago I practically locked my housemates in a room to get them to watch it (they loved it, of course), and I rewatch it at least once every year — generally in autumn, because as soon as I see a crispy orange leaf on the ground the poster pops into my head.
There’s something for everyone in When Harry Met Sally, whether it’s the warmth of romance, quick and clever dialogue, or Meg Ryan’s enviable style. What makes it so good is its complexity. On the surface sure, it’s about two people who don’t like each other and then they do and oh look, now they’re in love. But there’s much more to it than that, and the messages that it sends are ones that are certainly worth listening to.
Despite being a (very) slow burn romance, there’s a carpe diem element to the narrative. Most of the film could broadly fit into the ‘hangout movie’ category, with witty conversations and compelling characters engaging the audience but little actually happening. Each of the main characters are unfulfilled, stagnant. Sally’s friend Marie, for example: she’s having an affair with a married man, with the phrase “he’s never gonna leave her” repeated by both her and her friends in an almost Beckettian motif. Despite talking big about how she’s going to take action, she doesn’t — and she remains unhappy. This only changes once she seizes the day, or rather, seizes Sally’s date from her.
Similarly, both Harry and Sally’s former partners are shown to be leaving happier lives once they’ve left them. Sally’s ex-boyfriend gets married and is planning a family, and Harry’s ex-wife appears to be (albeit smugly) content with her new man. This happiness only comes after the characters have chosen to make decisions based on instinct, following what they believe will bring them happiness. Although it leaves our main characters temporarily unhappy, it ultimately prevents that stagnation from eating all of those involved alive.
This is epitomised, of course, in the final scene and its well-quoted “when you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible”. We see each character ‘before’ and ‘after’ this ‘rest of their lives’ starts, and although their decisions focus primarily around romance (it is a romcom, after all), the concept of following your gut and knowing what’s best for you, seizing the day and making the most of your life, can be applied to far broader situations.
These revelations help the characters to understand themselves and about those around them, building knowledge of their interiority, their wants and needs, and allowing them to reach happiness and fulfilment. It might sound a little new-age-y, or like a terrible motivational seminar, but I think it’s a part of the film that, although not central to the narrative, is worth bearing in mind.
Another thing that makes this film exceptional is its depictions of interpersonal relationships. We’re told right from the start that “men and women can’t be friends”, before the entire film proves Harry’s thesis incorrect. In the end, it barely matters that Harry and Sally end up together. I would argue that the film presents the love of friends on a similar, if not equal, level as romantic love.
The film’s conclusion is mildly polarising. Heralded by some as the natural conclusion to a slow burn love story, others think that the titular characters should not have ended up together as it validates Harry’s vision of the world. I can see both points of view, but I honestly don’t think it really matters whether or not the two get their happily-ever-after together, the final talking heads segment giving us a glance into their happily married future. Of course, it’s satisfying that the film ends as it does — God knows I’ve been frustrated when a romantic comedy tries to have a quirky twist in which the couple realises that they’re not meant to be — but Harry and Sally’s platonic relationship up to this point is already complex and multifaceted. Friendship isn’t just a placeholder for romance, it’s a valuable relationship in and of itself. Love isn’t just romantic throughout the story, which is what makes it so easy to get lost in.
As mentioned earlier, friendship-love is valued rather than relegated to a second-class status, a cheap consolation prize of romantic failure. Sally and Marie are close friends whose on-screen communications are written to show their genuine knowledge and interest in each other. Somewhat unusually, for the time and the genre, this is mirrored by Harry’s relationship with Jess — something made clear through the parallel conversations that the two friendship duos have.
Furthermore, friendships are not lost when characters enter into romantic relationships. Instead, the social circle is expanded. Marie and Jess’s relationship not only provides Harry and Sally with another couple to play off of, but also gives each a new friend. The numerous hangouts between the quartet cement this idea, with romance complementing rather than disrupting friendship.
Of course, much of these relationships, and the film’s charm, is down to its fast-talking, punchy script. Nora Ephron creates characters who are funny, flawed, and just about real enough that you think you might see them walking down the street one day. By creating such full personalities in the short 96-minute runtime, Ephron’s characters have room to breathe and can develop meaningful, complex relationships with each other. Truly a masterclass in writing, there aren’t many other films I’ve seen that have had such well-structured relationships across the board. Maybe I just haven’t seen enough films, but I stand by my opinion regardless.
When Harry Met Sally is more than a romantic comedy. Or perhaps I should say, it is more than just a romantic comedy. The genre is often maligned for being fluffy and frivolous, but Nora Ephron’s masterpiece proves that a film can be romantic and comedic while also being carefully thought out and having real care put into it. It’s a film that goes beyond the clever quips and enviable jumpers on its surface.