If there’s any time my friends and I resemble the precision and ritualistic exactitude of a Japanese bullet train, it’s Monday at 8 p.m. When the clock strikes, we unwrap the cheese, uncork the Pinot and affix our eyes to the glossy TV screen for two—sometimes three!—hours of unintentional tragicomedy as The Bachelorette unfurls with wildly contrived abandon and we wine-buzz our way through the entire 120+ minute thing.
“Hey, can I call you back? I’ve got to use Google Maps and figure out where I’m going.”
“Sure,” I said, nodding even though obviously the voice on the other end couldn’t see.
As a New York transplant to Southern California, I understood how navigating Los Angeles could easily become an epic Game of Thrones-like conquest of overflowing freeways for anyone who wasn’t accustomed to its concrete terrain. Minutes later the call resumed and I was again talking with Robby Hayes, contestant on The Bachelorette Season 12 and Bachelor in Paradise Season 4, partner at LeisureLetics and since April 2017 when he headed west from Denver, newly minted resident of Los Angeles.
After what seems like an actual year of waiting, Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life has finally made its caffeinated, fast-talking, pop-culture-referencing debut on Netflix. While the very first scene—Lorelai and Rory doing their back-and-forth thing beneath the town gazebo—felt more like a poorly choreographed and nervously performed opening to an off-off-Broadway play than it did a welcome back to Stars Hollow, we were welcomed back nonetheless, and that’s all that matters.
In the space separating fact from film, I give you the romantic comedy, spinning lies about love that we’ve been told to believe for decades with all the glamorous, Hollywood exhilaration of Marilyn Monroe declaring diamonds our true best friends. Where does the madness end? And do we even want it to? Let’s break down five love-centric movies and see what’s what.
On Tuesday evening around nine, Marshall Fillchardo, owner of Kipp, CO-based bakery, Bread A Leg, took out his phone, looked up into the starry sky and snapped a photo of the full moon. Though the photo was partly out of focus, it was still decent enough by Fillchardo’s non-exacting standards and without hesitation, he posted it to his Facebook profile then awaited the usual—and ardent—response. But in the space separating Fillchardo’s sanguine social media expectations and what came to pass grew a dark abyss of like-less nothing.