I have to admit that I’m something of a sap; let’s just put that out there. I got teary eyed in the most recent Harry Potter movie, I bawled over the finale of the second season of Doctor Who and, for some reason which I’ve yet to divine, I got really emotional over Aladdin once (ONCE, mind you; don’t go spreading that around). Thus, being a sap, I have a soft spot for romance in regard to my entertainment, but I also have a vagina, so I suppose it comes with the territory. But just because I likes me some love doesn’t mean that I’ll take a hit of it wherever I can get it; I have my standards. And as much as I like When Harry Met Sally, there are times when a gal needs a breath of fresh romantic air (or romantic fresh air, or some other arrangement of those words), and so we take a look at four movies that are both romantic and unconventional or unconventionally romantic.

1. Punch-Drunk Love

Barry: I'm lookin' at your face and I just wanna smash it. I just wanna fuckin' smash it with a sledgehammer and squeeze it. You're so pretty.
Lena: I want to chew your face, and I want to scoop out your eyes and I want to eat them and chew them and suck on them.
[pause]
Barry: Okay. This is funny. This is nice.

Barry Egan is sad. Barry Egan is also lonely. He’s attempting to start a business to little or no effect (which he attends every day in a suit and tie even though he works in something of a warehouse), he lives on his own, he has a family full of judgmental and unsympathetic siblings and he has no emotional outlet to speak of. People quite often find him strange. He’s innocent and virginal, at one point in the film calling a phone sex hotline simply to have someone to talk to, but he also has an inclination toward abrupt, destructive anger. He is suppressed and depressed and all sorts of –esseds until a little lady named Lena Leonard comes along. Their courtship is awkward and frightened and indirect in a way that is painstakingly endearing and altogether unorthodox, and through it he finds a sense of purpose and strength.

Barry: I didn't ask for a shrink - that must've been somebody else. Also, that pudding isn't mine. Also, I'm wearing this suit today because I had a very important meeting this morning and I don't have a crying problem.

The film is almost whimsical in a way; the cinematography and direction is very specific to sort of give it this strange fairytale feel. It’s both real and entirely not at the same time. If I were to put a heading on it to sort of give you an idea of what you should expect, I would designate it as an art house film, and it’s most certainly artistic, but it serves mostly to strengthen characters and story (as it should). Adam Sandler is surprisingly fantastic in it, and Emily Watson is as well, although she never really disappoints. What’s really special about this movie, though, is of course, the characters and their interaction. It’s absolutely heart warming to see Barry go from a distant and secluded soul to a fighting (literally) man of action through his love of Lena. The concept is simplistic and familiar enough, as are the individuals that execute the story (but not in a boring, one-dimensional way; they are simplistic without sacrificing complexity, if that makes any sense) but writer and director Paul Thomas Anderson (whom you may or may not know as the creator of Magnolia) spins it around and presents it in an entirely new, fresh way (the above dialogue should be an indication that this isn’t your momma’s romance), which turns out to be much more effective than your garden variety “boy meets girl” love story. 

2. Rushmore

Max Fischer: The truth is, neither one of us has the slightest idea where this relationship is going. We can't predict the future.
Rosemary Cross: We don't have a relationship.
Max Fischer: But we're friends.
Rosemary Cross: Yes, and that's all we're going to be.
Max Fischer: That's all I meant by "relationship." You want me to grab a dictionary?

Rushmore is the story of Max Fischer, a precocious student of the prestigious private school “Rushmore”, which he was accepted into despite financial inadequacy because of a play he wrote in elementary school about the Watergate scandal. He is the member/president/co-president or founder of nearly every club on the campus; he directs and writes every play; he has the fortitude and drive of someone much older and he is completely in love with his school. As he says, “I guess you've just gotta find something you love to do and then...do it for the rest of your life. For me, it's going to Rushmore.” This devotion is shifted, however, when he meets Rosemary Cross, a new teacher at Rushmore, and becomes absolutely smitten with her in an obsessive, naïve and slightly venomous way. When he finds out that his older friend, Howard Blume (played by Bill Murray) is also in love with her, it becomes an up-the-ante showdown to try and win her affections.

Herman Blume: She's my Rushmore.
Max Fischer: I know. She was mine too.

If you’re at all familiar with Wes Anderson’s work (The Royal Tenenbaums, Bottle Rocket, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou) you know that he has a very distinctive directing style. All of those clubs that I was mentioning earlier, there are scenes at the beginning that cycle through every single one of them in action or with the related members posing. I wish I could describe how genius its execution is, but you’ll just have to see it for yourself. In any case, Rushmore is a comedy at heart with dry humor up the wazoo and although the romance isn’t necessarily the central point, it’s certainly the driving force. What makes it great and equally unique is the clever comedy, the awkward interaction and, of course, the abundance of one-liners (there are roughly 900 bands that reference this movie, I shit you not. Look at Fall Out Boy and Brand New for the most prominent examples). You might not be looking at this explicitly for a sit down, bucket of ice cream romance flick, but it certainly has its heart warming and emotional aspects, and, when you get right down to it, it is about lookin’ for love (in all the wrong places). That and it’s just generally a great movie; Anderson’s best, in my humble opinion.

3. Shaun of the Dead

Liz: It would just be nice if we could spend a bit more time together, just the two of us. It's just with Ed here, it's no wonder I want to bring my flat mates out and that only exacerbates things.
Shaun: What do you mean?
Liz: Well you guys hardly get along do you?
Shaun: No, what does ‘exacerbate’ mean?
Liz: Oh. It means to make things worse.

The creators of Shaun of the Dead (and also the completely ingenious television show Spaced which you should really go and see as quickly as you can) refer to their film as a romzomcom, which stands for a romantic zombie comedy, and that’s precisely what it is. When I first saw the trailers for Shaun of the Dead I thought it would be a Scary Movie-esque parody of George Romero’s zombie films, but it’s much more than that. It’s certainly an homage to them, but it has a self-contained story, insight and charm all its own. Similar to Rushmore, its plot is largely motivated by Shaun’s love for his (at the time) ex-girlfriend, Liz. It’s concern for her safety (and his mom’s, but primarily Liz’s) that drives him and his best friend Ed to leave their apartment and brave the undead world with naught but a shovel and a cricket bat for protection. Unlike Rushmore, however, Shaun saving face in Liz’s eyes and the romance between them is the absolute central focus throughout. The end of the film actually becomes, and appropriately, very emotional and touching. These aren’t just characters that can be axed off for a laugh or for gore (except maybe a few), and their ties to one another, particularly between Shaun/Ed and Shaun/Liz are quite moving.  

4. Hana-Bi

No quotes for this one because, in customary Kitano style, the film isn’t exactly dialogue heavy. He uses visuals and atmosphere to tell the story more than he does conversation, which really makes the film all the more poignant. The protagonist is a man named Yoshitaka Nishi, an ex-policeman who quits the force after a shoot out that leaves his partner, Horibe, paralyzed and wheelchair dependent. Part of the movie follows the emotional recuperation of Horibe, but the majority is spent on Nishi and his wife Miyuki. We learn early on that she is ill; afflicted with a severe case of leukemia. Nishi borrows money from the Yakuza (the Japanese equivalent to the mob, just FYI) in order to care for her and also, we learn, to take her on a vacation. The film, which could accurately be described as “minimalist”, alternates between crippling melancholy, startling violence and scenes between Nishi and Miyuki that are funny, tender and sincere. Nishi appears distant and cold, but we find through his interaction with Miyuki that he is in actuality considerably generous and loving, just somewhat numbed by the deficiency of his partner that he feels partially responsible for and the illness of his wife. 

I wasn’t entirely sure if I was going to like Hana-Bi at the beginning; at first glance, Nishi’s relationship with his wife seems desperate and emotionless, and it seemed as if the violence of the yakuza and the memory of his job would be the main focus of the film, but as the story progresses we find that it is so much more than that. Nishi does everything that he can to provide for his wife and ensure her happiness despite her condition and the illness she faces. It’s an incredibly touching story of love of generosity and acceptance of one’s circumstance, concerning both Nishi and Miyuki’s story and Horibe’s as well. And, as aforementioned, his sparse implementation of dialogue makes it so that every word spoken, either by Nishi and Miyuki, carries even greater weight and significance, which is very effective in the context of the film.