In Defense of Love Actually | Love Actually (2024 Re-release) Movie Review

I love Love Actually, actually 🥰

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I LiveSkeet film reviews over on BlueSky, and then piece them together with commentary to make my full reviews here on Medium before they go to Letterbox’d. Please subscribe anywhere/everywhere you can for more of my shenanigans…

I had never seen Love Actually, actually, so I figured the perfect opportunity to take it in for the first time — especially given how much I expected to hate it — would be in a crowded theatre full of people who already love it.

There are a lot of perquisites (I contend that the abbreviation of perquisites is perqs, not perks) to being a part-time AMC Theatres usher, but the foremost is that I can take a flyer on any AMC event or showing for free. And since I can’t check out my tickets until 2 hours before showtime (to allow for paying customers to fill up the theatre), I’m often flying by the seat of my pants, last-minute.

So when I noticed Love Actually playing Christmas Eve at AMC Southcenter in Seattle at 3pm at roughly 1:15pm, that was all the motivation I needed to see this alleged classic (that I fully expected, based on what I’d heard, to hate) in a theatre full of people who already love it so much that they’re paying (again) to see it re-released (again).

Since I managed to LiveSky (I prefer that infinitely to LiveSkeet) the film pretty thoroughly, we can hew mostly to my tweets. Suffice it to say, this movie turned me 180 degrees WAY around, and it didn’t take that long.

I kept switching up my MVP pick. At first, I thought Bill Nighy was stealing the show. Then, I thought Laura Linney and Emma Thompson were doing the best work. It’s fair to say that this film features an abundance of big-time talents at the height of their powers doing incredible work.

I’ve heard for years about the connectedness — or lack thereof — of the main story threads and characters. I’d argue, after seeing it, that that’s a strength of the film, and it’s thematically underscored by the montages that frame the movie.

Think of it as a sort of infinite hubbub that we zoom in on for the duration of the film, but then we also zoom back out. I spent some trying to work out what the thesis of this film was, and to the extent I was able to discern it, I think it’s this:

Let’s just pretend you didn’t see my conclusion yet… 😬

All people’s stories matter, and are — if you dig in — worth hearing and worth telling.

The way the film dips in and out of specificity in its bookends elegantly underscores the universality of its story, and also — not for nothing — helps to ease the narrative discomfort of following approximately 500 different, named characters, only some of whom know each other (except Billy Mack, who only knows Elton John, Joe and Britney Spears, plus every British television presenter or radio host in existence).

There’s also an idea that I can’t recall having seen elsewhere, or widely promulgated apart from this film, and that is: We’ve got to tell hard truths today — it’s Christmas.

Several times in the movie, characters say, “I wouldn’t say this ordinarily, but it’s Christmas, so…” and while I’m unfamiliar with this practice or philosophy, I think I do get it. If not now, when? It lends a little real-world magic to Christmas, and if I’m totally honest, that’s something that’s been missing from my life and my Christmases for longer than I’d care to admit.

That said, I’m not taking life advice from this movie, or at least from its characters, because I’m not sure any of them has it figured out. But I think that the audience collectively ‘figures it out’ in the aggregate, through the accumulation of stories and relationships. It’s a beautiful, messy mélange.

And it’s funny.

Look who’s good at predicting plots of twenty-year old movies…

I’ve probably heard Love Actually discussed or described or referenced a thousand times in my life in the 21 years since its release. I’ve heard it both lauded and slandered, and I vaguely knew pretty much every plot beat before it happened (having seen clips and montages and trailers, etc.), but somehow I still had no real idea what I was in for.

The most surprising and welcome thing was how whimsical and funny the movie is. It’s very, very British, which is how Richard Curtis and the three listed casting directors assembled this Avengers-level Murderer’s Row of actors. Most had worked with Curtis before. He’s a British legend (I presume): Notting Hill, Four Weddings & a Funeral, Bridget Jones’s Diary.

Speaking of Ms. Jones, she’s in this movie.

Eh, guv?

Hugh Grant has never been more Hugh Grant, and despite the plethora of comforting, soothing, familiar voices Curtis could have had open the film, it makes narrative, thematic sense to give it to the PM, and (on a personal note), I discovered in the moment that I find Grant’s voice very resonant and nostalgic.

I think I was still undecided and inclined to dislike Love Actually based on its reputation until the lobster joke.

Okay, you’ve got me, script. That’s a really good one, and it becomes a hilarious runner throughout the movie.

I was literally the only person in a pretty-full theatre to laugh at this joke, and I laughed hard enough to draw attention. I guess everyone else has seen it a million times, but I also think I might laugh at this line every time I see this movie from now on.

I don’t think there’s any diagetic reasoning for why there are lobsters (and at least one octopus) present in the nativity scene, which makes it incalculably funnier. If I had to explicate, I’d say the joke is that every kid’s pageant/play looks this ridiculous, nonsensical and cobbled-together from even a slight remove, but it’s definitely for the best that the script doesn’t get too bogged down in justifying these hilarious flourishes.

And I was worried I wouldn’t have anything fresh to say on this movie…

I was definitely the only one laughing for most of the jokes, but I was not — spoiler alert — the only one crying during the weepy bits. I promise.

Bill Nighy is pitched to perfection. He’s disillusioned, cynical, honest, curmudgeonly and instantly likable. I don’t know if Billy Mack is likable on the page, but definitely not like this. Nighy understood the assignment, and though his character is the one character that doesn’t directly interact with any other characters outside of his storyline, he does appear to someone in every other storyline via television appearances and performances.

And he absolutely kills it. Look at this joke, which on the page is — I would argue — adequate.

That’s charm you can’t buy. Unless you’re paying one Bill Nighy.

He’s devouring the scenery, but very sincerely seems to be coming up with his little aside in the moment (spoiler alert: it was written down months, if not years, before, and he’s likely seen the script). They call that: Acting.

Miraculously, Nighy wasn’t even initially being considered for the part. He impressed Curtis and the casting directors at a table read. I get it. No way do you hear that actor reading that part and not snatch him up for it.

I mean, I knew it was rated-R. But I was still a little flustered, in an I-grew-up-religious kind of way, by the matter-of-fact, unglorified nudity in a theatre full of people.

As to the pacing: this script is a masterclass in pacing. There is never a spare second to be bored, and it doesn’t feel nearly its 135-minute runtime.

Some elements of the film haven’t aged as well. Some transphobic and homophobic stuff sneaks in that was de rigeur in the era, but I think the narrative is insulated somewhat by the fact that these characters are flawed and often selfish. If the film is a time capsule, then yeah, your average straight guy in the era was making jokes like Chiwetel Ejiofor and your average middle-aged woman — even a woke one — might have taken the stance assigned to Karen when counseling Daniel.

I don’t think the movie thinks that transwomen are men in dresses, and I don’t think the movie thinks no one will shag you if you cry [more than a man should]. I think Peter and Karen believe those things, but I hope that the crying/shagging thing isn’t true, because I wept several times in this film.

It didn’t get Pharasaic, with the rending of garments and sackcloth and ash and all that, but it wasn’t that far, either. Let’s count down the crying moments (and if you don’t want to be spoiled, that’s kind of crazy, but maybe skip the rest of the review; I’d argue this movie can’t be spoiled, though):

Can I call things in decades-old movies, or what? That’s one.

I fully guarantee you I’d have cried watching it at home, too.

Honorable mention. And Billy Mack is kind of a Glue Guy, but Karen actually interfaces with all the other players and plots.

This one was rough.

The whole is greater than the sum of its parts, and no better example is how — for me — this movie overcomes one utterly unsympathetic storyline in Milquetoast and Juliet. But it’s not that it didn’t work for me; I think the ending could speak to Juliet’s healing, transformational grace, but we just don’t really see it from her perspective.

Knew it was coming. I get movies.

Six! And let’s be real: the script doesn’t let Harry off the hook. I think it’s pretty clear he’s done irreparable damage to his relationship, and we spend considerable time with Karen’s grief, alone, in the bedroom. I’d argue that of any of the three of them, this plotline is Karen’s love story. Because we spend so much of the time with Mia and Harry, and know much of what Karen could and does not know, it could be easy to confuse this for Harry’s love story. That’s a misreading of the text.

Lucky Number Se7en.

If you’ve never seen Love Actually, then definitely see it, even knowing these plot points. In the course of writing this review, I had occasion to run into some pretty vitriolic commentary regarding this film, including an (I believe) infamous Jezebel article from 2013 that I must have read at the time, and which informed some of my opinion of the film before seeing it.

Look, there are plenty of valid feminist criticisms of this movie. It’s very male-centric. By my count, it passes the Bechdel Test in its opening minute, with Daisy telling mom Karen she’s first lobster in the school Christmas pageant. If that scene were cut, I’m not sure Love Actually would pass the Bechdel Test. In tepid, weak defense of the script, the dudes don’t talk about anything but women, either. It’s a movie about relationships, and it’s a shame that a lesbian subplot/storyline was cut, because it would probably have gone a long way towards buttressing this film against feminist and progressive complaints.

But I’d like to think I’ve moved forward in my life philosophy since 2013, and I don’t know if I agreed wholeheartedly with it (in ignorance, mind you) at the time, but reading it back now, it could not be clearer to me that I don’t share the writer’s disdain or revulsion for the movie, and I’d like to think I reserve that sort of deep-snark, acerbic rancor for things that really deserve it (like, say, Kraven the Hunter).

This movie doesn’t deserve that. Could it have served women better with the script? Unquestionably. It’s a flawed work. I don’t think anyone involved is claiming it’s a perfect film. I had my issues. The bad jokes I’ve already outlined, the whole Mark storyline (I refused to learn his character’s name, because I just hated him immediately) skeeved me out from the word Go. Here are some of my issues with the film, as I experienced them live:

It took a while for Liam Neeson to work for me in this movie, but by the climax, I was fully on board, and appreciated what he was bringing to the role.

I found some of the dialogue and characters — especially as written — laughable and problematic, to say the least. But, having seen the totality of the film now, I’d argue they’re written that way on porpoise 🐬

The script does cheat, at points, by not-too-carefully examining — or failing to examine entirely — the interior lives of its characters, especially the women.

Like an animated movie in the sense that, while your eyes aren’t fooled into thinking you’re watching real human beings do real human things (which, btw, in a cinema, you never are), your heart IS fooled into feeling for these characters as though they were human beings. If you have one, anyway.

The movie missed the mark on a few moments, but it took a lot of swings FOR moments, and Love Actually’s batting average is great.

Not really a flaw with the movie, but it is even more of a reason to dislike Milquetoast. Who by the way, gets not what he wants — Juliet — but what he needs — a healthy, tenable dynamic with his best friend and best friend’s wife. Which is still serving his needs, not hers. Fair.

… but Love Actually is pulling it off with style!

Finally, folks were laughing with me.

That’s a veritable litany of iffy moments. It’s pretty man-centric, but also inarguably hilarious, that everything goes Colin’s way. The women that are played for laughs are cartoonish hot-girl sketches with literally no interiority of their own.

It’s not especially feminist, is it? But it worked for me, and it worked for literally everyone in the theatre, too, even after they failed to laugh at numerous other jokes. And as far as I know, no one involved with Love Actually has purported that this is a feminist text.

It’s a Love (Actually) story. And I love it, actually.

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