Love and Other Drugs

You all probably thought that since I was going to be in Paris for several months, I was going to stop watching movies and writing about them. So, so false. Movies are my go-to comfort (among other things such as eating cheese, petting/talking to any cat I can get my hands on, and reading). When life gives you time change, inclement weather, too many emotions, and a budget, you bet your booty I'll be in bed watching movies on my computer. And yes, I am aware that I live in Paris.

At first deterred by the typical tear-jerker rom-com label, and determined that I did not need an excuse to shed tears, I eventually decided to give Love and Other Drugs a go-around. First off, I liked the title. Simple, clever, but ultimately the Truth. Ke$ha said it right: your love certainly is a drug. Then there are two young, beautiful, supple, and often naked stars. Why the hell not.

The start of the film filled me with doubt. It was uncomfortably fast-paced and manic, and the transition from this sky-high energy to a calmer give-and-take after Jamie meets Maggie is all too noticeable. It gets cute, cuter, and cutest, though, so you watch and then keep watching.

As with most things, it all depends on your expectations. I expected to be pretty entertained, and so I was. If you can ignore the film's restlessness and melodramatic moments, you will surely enjoy it too.

Disregarding how charmed I was, I wanted more (I always want more. More, more more...). I tried to cry. I wanted to, you know? But I just couldn't. Though Jamie and Maggie clearly had earth-shattering chemistry, and though I could have sworn each posed shot of them draped over one another in her huge bohemian apartment was taken from an Anthropologie catalog, the charm didn't quite manage to turn into something deeper. Sure, I appreciate the fact that from the start, the story would not be an ultimately happy one, because it never is with a deteriorative illness. But it just wasn't enough.

In effect, I don't know what I'm complaining about. I told you from the start I was pleasantly surprised, but that's also because I went in with low expectations. I keep telling myself maybe life would be a whole lot more swell if I went about everything with mightily low expectations, and would therefore never be disappointed with the way things turned out. But try as I might, I'm just not made like that. There are certainly cinematic gems out there; Love and Other Drugs, unfortunately, is just a bit of cubic zirconium.