Romance that dares to be great
March 7, 2002
The scene plays out on the walls of romantics everywhere, a posterized snapshot with so much symbolism that a surrealist would drool.
On the poster a lanky and worn young man stands defiant. Clad in clunky Nike sneakers, a deteriorating Clash T-shirt and a tan overcoat rolled up at the sleeves, he wears the uniform of one who’s much cooler to others than he is to himself. Behind him, a car that facilitates necessity more than style is parked askew in front of small-town foliage.
The eye, though, settles on two dynamics. With both hands, the young man holds overhead the type of boombox they just don’t make any more, elbows slightly bent from weariness. But the face, now there’s the key. On the poster, without reference, the imagined song could be anything. But the young man’s face, belying a broken heart still ready to go another round, tells us there’s something important in those notes and lyrics.
For any owner of this poster, though, there’s plenty of reference for this image. One look recalls the scene, the hallmark of “Say Anything …” and the cream of a healthy crop of memorable and powerful scenes. Soon, the faint melody of Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” meanders into the subconscious and then it happens. The magic of cinema has transcended its medium.
Lloyd Dobler, as depicted by John Cusack, stands tall and proud on the cover of the “Say Anything …” special edition DVD. And on the disc, supported by increased attention in the actors and director commentary track, deleted scenes and extended segments, the scene that means so much to its audience becomes a scene that means so much for the creators and participants.
True fans of the movie know at least part of the story behind the scene, arriving at the pivotal juncture in the Lloyd and Diane (Ione Skye) relationship. Cusack originally wanted a Fishbone tune because that’s what he was listening to in 1989 while filming the romance. And in the deleted scenes, the tone morphs ever so slowly as Cusack tries out different stances and fed-up countenances. In another scene, with another indecipherable tune used for pacing purposes, Skye subtly attempts different bed-ridden reactions to the song (a song the narrative establishes that she loves).
To focus on just one scene, though, denies the fervent appeal the movie still enjoys, as evident in Entertainment Weekly’s gushing proclamation as the “best modern-day romance.” But the scene brings out all the feelings the rest of the movie fosters. Writer/director Cameron Crowe composes the scene like the vivid imagery that permeated his Rolling Stone journalism, with a dash of undeniable truth first fostered in his screenplay for “Fast Times at Ridgemont High.” Even at this most fantastically romantic of junctures, the most idealistically lovelorn believe that such a thing could happen, maybe even tomorrow.
Just as Lloyd’s heart remains on his rolled-up sleeves, the movie wears it in a similar way. Without the easy payoff (Diane doesn’t rush off into Lloyd’s arms after hearing the song, even though we think we want her to) and with all the memories intact (the pen, the kickboxing, Corey’s songs), a care for the story shines through. And with even more reason to delve into the film’s nuances on DVD, the feelings the poster captures are true. The resolution of all the fruitless searches is complete.