Beauty in Melancholy: 4 Films That Exhibit Love & Pain
by Dhenyze Guevara
“To love and win is the best thing. To love and lose, the next best.”
— William Makepeace Thackeray
If someone were to open my phone and check my screen time, they would most likely find a huge chunk of my daily time spent on Letterboxd, an online platform wherein anyone can share their reviews and thoughts regarding film. As a self-proclaimed cinephile, I adore discovering new films and revisiting old ones— above all that, the thing that I enjoy the most is sharing my opinion on films.
I find that I often change my opinions on different films, and my list of favorites has been scrambled a few too many times, depending on my mood and fixations; nevertheless, the ones dearest to my heart remain the same.
What are your top four favorite films?
Such an obscure question that I’m unlikely to be asked in a normal conversation, but this is a question that I just immediately know the answer to. My mother tells me that if there is something that I will never shut up about, it would be about my favorite films.
All of these films have diverse styles, different synopses, and overall very distinct films in themselves. I’ve watched these four films enough times to know it like the back of my hand— However, when I clicked on these four films on Letterboxd and saw all of them side by side, only then did I notice a pattern:
All four films have a melancholic ending.
I’ve never consciously noticed my bias for this certain film genre, as I pride myself in enjoying almost every genre in film, but I realized that I have grown to love the genre that brings the most emotion out of me. The gut-wrenching, heart-breaking feeling of seeing the screen fade to black while the fairy tale you had hoped to come true, just… doesn’t. That same gut-wrenching feeling that triggers the waterworks is the same feeling I seem to have grown to have an addiction to.
Without further ado, here are my four favorite films. Have fun (or stay miserable) reading, and I do hope that you’ll find interest in watching or revisiting these films; whether it be for a good cry, or a good month-long existential crisis.
Warning: Spoiler Alert! To elaborate on the love and loss demonstrated in the following films, major plot points will be discussed. If you haven’t watched the films yet, I suggest clicking on your local streaming service before reading.
LA LA LAND
La La Land, directed by Damiene Chazelle, is a romantic musical film starring Emma Stone as Mia, and Ryan Gosling as Seb. Albeit being categorized as a romance film, the film isn’t about romance at all. It’s about two dreamers who are trying to navigate their careers and aspirations in the ever so fast-paced world of Los Angeles, that just so happens to fall in love within the seasons. Chazelle does an amazing red herring-style storytelling by tricking the audience into thinking that the film’s main storyline is romance, which makes the ending all the more heartbreaking to its audience, myself included.
I distinctly remember watching this in the theaters and practically gaslighting myself into thinking: “Well, that obviously can’t be the end, right? It’s a love story. They have to end up together. That’s just the way things go.”
How incredibly wrong I was. As the credits rolled and the theater lights turned back on, I was left with tears staining my collar and a heart as if it was snatched from my chest and stepped on with a stiletto heel.
Despite this film managing to single-handedly break my heart into pieces, upon a few rewatches (and a lot of video essays,) I realize that La La Land was never meant to be about love between Mia and Seb, instead their love for who they dream to be. It is most evident in how the film ends, with Mia finally becoming a successful actress, and Seb finally owning his Jazz club; just like they both dreamed of. As they look back at each other, with the neon lights illuminating their now mature demeanor, they have accepted the paths they have chosen for themselves.
That doesn’t mean they didn’t experience pain, though. In one of the most iconic parts of the film: the Dream Sequence, Mia and Seb dance together in an 11-minute medley of their lives. A projection of what could’ve been. If they had just changed a few decisions– if they had just chosen each other.
Even in the costume design by Mary Zophres, Mia starts by wearing vivid colors to show her passion and “head in the clouds” approach to life. As the film progresses, though, her clothes start to become paler, and soon, in the last scene, a completely dark color, as if to tell us that she is no longer in La La Land. Instead, she lives in reality, albeit dark and sometimes colorless. Though she has fulfilled her dream of being a movie star, her wearing black shows as if she is in mourning– for the lives that she and Seb could’ve lived.
For with the death of their relationship, came the birth of their career.
In its own right, La La Land offers the audience a rewarding ending, yet we cannot help but yearn with them; to dream with them, of what would’ve been if they had chosen each other.
A film for the idealists turned realists–
“Here’s to the fools who dream.”
ATONEMENT
Atonement is a term that is often used for the forgiveness of sins, or to repair a wrong that has been done. This war drama film is a story that starts as a romance and quickly transcends into tragedy and loss; torn apart by a lie. Atonement’s two young lovers, Robbie Turner (James McAvoy) and Cecilia Tallis (Keira Knightley) are two young people who have secretly pined for each other for a long period of time, and with a myriad misunderstandings, come a never-ending pain of longing.
The interesting thing about Atonement is that it tricks you with its title; letting you make the assumption that whichever wrongdoings created by these characters would soon find its resolve. It is a slow descent into misery, with false hope that the end could be cathartic.
Robbie and Cecilia have not only felt loss once, but twice.
The first is when Briony (Cecilia’s younger sister) accuses Robbie of being sexually inappropriate towards her cousin, resulting in Robbie being sent to prison, not to be seen again by Cecilia for a long while. As this happened right after their first profession of their love for each other, they two mourn the love that they could’ve shared, if only the circumstances had been kind to them.
The second is when they meet again, years after they’ve seen each other last. They sit across from each other in a cafe. One a nurse, the other a soldier— now fully changed by the unfortunate circumstances of their history and the war, but their love still prevails. They smile at each other, and Cecilia lightly caresses Robbie’s face, uttering the words:
“I love you. I'll wait for you. Come back. Come back to me.”
By which, of course, this being a tragedy, they never get to fulfill this promise to each other. With a similar pipeline to La La Land, we are tricked by a now adult Briony, who explains herself by providing “atonement” to her dear sister and her lover, by immortalizing their love through her writing; the love that not even the real Cecilia and Robbie got to experience.
This leads us to the question: was it truly atonement, if her actions were only to give herself peace of mind? This film discusses the pain that derives from these two lovers not being able to have the opportunity to truly show the love that they had for each other– and it also discusses the morality of forgiveness and redemption. Is Briony truly a redeemable character for her remorse? Or is she unforgivable for her lack of true action?
Upon my first watch, it seemed that I had gone through a phase of denial where my brain just couldn’t accept the ending. After thinking about it for days on end, I decided to watch it again. After my screen turned black, I sat in the corner of my room quietly for a good hour, just contemplating the gravity of pain that had just been put on my shoulders by that film.
A famous quote says:
“'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”
The most excruciating part of all this is that these two lovers barely had the chance to truly show their love to each other before they met their tragic ends.
Want to step into the shoes of Atonement’s Robbie Turner? Listen to this Spotify playlist.
SOMEWHERE IN TIME
“Forgive me. I have never known this feeling. I have lived without it all my life. Is it any wonder, then, I failed to recognize you?...
…There is so much to say. I cannot find the words. Except for these: I love you.”
It is evident throughout history (especially film history) that humans have an innate obsession with the idea of traveling back in time— films such as Interstellar, Back to The Future, The Lake House, and more. But what makes Somewhere In Time special amongst a plethora of time-traveling romance films, is that it sends you on the journey with Richard Collier (played by Christopher Reeve) into the psychological process of going back in time.
Richard Collier is a young playwright with a really bad case of writer’s block. In an attempt to change his surroundings to catalyze new creative ideas, he checks into the Grand Hotel, where he finds and falls in love with a portrait of a beautiful woman, who he soon discovers is Elise McKenna, a famous actress in 1910. Filled with magnetism and infatuation, Richard finds a way to go back in time to meet the love of his life.
The beauty of this film is in its mystery. Why was Richard so entranced by Elise McKenna, despite not having met her yet? Was it his subconscious that drew him to the Grand Hotel, to that Hall of History, and to that portrait? Did he somehow just know, in the back of his mind, that she was what he was searching for all his life?
The same can be said for Elise McKenna. Upon Richard’s successful travel to 1910, he meets a young Elise McKenna, as the sunshine cascades her body in opulent Edwardian clothing. As her eyes meet him, despite never having met each other before that moment, she says:
“Is it you?”
What makes this film so beautiful and agonizing is that the film takes us on that very journey with Richard to go back in time and meet Elise McKenna. We see his thought process, his efforts to go back in time, as well as the struggle to convince her of his sanity and his love for her. We see the hero’s resilience in meeting the love of his life–
Only to have it all taken away from him, because of a single penny.
My father is a fellow film connoisseur, and I could confidently say that my love for film stemmed from his own. We often would find ourselves bonding over different films since I was old enough to enjoy movies.
I always like to ask my parents what their favorite film is. My mom, says that she doesn’t think about it that often (but it’s actually Forever Young), and I thought it made sense for her to love that film. However, my dad– who made me watch Taken at a young age to lecture me about safety— told me that his favorite was Somewhere In Time. It had taken me aback to hear from him that his favorite film was some tragic love story in 1980 that people my age don’t even know about. He had always told me that he loves films where the hero prevails, where the movie ends with good riddance.
I’d often argue with him: “Why do you love this film so much? The ending is miserable!”
And he would argue back, saying: “It depends how you look at it.”
In the scene wherein Richard sees the 1979 penny and gets sucked back into modern times, you can see the desperation in his eyes, his face contorted into soundless cries of grief. You almost want to look away from the screen, unable to witness the pain of having to go through all of those endeavors, to lose it all due to a penny.
Funny to see a penny worth much more than its monetary currency.
My family and I recently revisited this film, and we all agreed to pause it right when they finally earned the freedom to be with each other; together and in love, despite the strange circumstances. We all knew what was coming, and we all had to take a breather before resuming our watch, as we saw Richard’s quick descent into madness and depression, and soon, his resignedness. Locked up in his room for days, he stayed there, longing to see his Elise one more time.
The film ends with Richard’s pale face smiling softly as his soul transcends to the skies, leaving his earthly body behind. In the vast horizon of blankness, we see from a distance: Elise McKenna, with a wide smile, and arms wide open. At long last, they are finally together.
As my father said, the ending can be taken as either a tragedy or a “happily ever after”, and that is exactly what brings a unique type of pain to this film: the mystery and ambiguity. Was it truly a happy ending, or a mere figment of Richard’s mind, using his gift of being a playwright to create his own reality, to soothe the pain of his loss?
We may never truly know if they indeed had their “happily ever after”, but all we can do is hope.
MY OWN PRIVATE IDAHO
Anyone who knows me knows that I have had a really bad obsession with Keanu Reeves since 2017 (Yes, the year John Wick 2 came out.) So much so that I made a promise to myself that I’d watch his whole filmography— and My Own Private Idaho was always at the top of my list to watch. For years on end, it was always on my list, but I never really got around to seeing it. My Own Private Idaho is considered a cult classic, but I was warned for its mature subject matter. At the age of 16, I knew how incapable I was of fully understanding mature and profound topics, so I just strayed away from films of an indie nature, just for the fear of misunderstanding.
Now, old enough to at least pretend to understand adult themes, I watched this film as I multitasked with other subjects, thinking that I would get things done while being “entertained.” Needless to say, I stopped multitasking, and I could’ve sworn some tears have probably made their way onto my project.
I remember saying to myself: “I just wanted to see Keanu Reeves. I can’t believe I got tricked into watching the most depressing film ever.”
Now a recent addition to my favorites, My Own Private Idaho is a Gus Van Sant film and crowned as a queer masterpiece— as Van Sant himself, a gay man, made sure to give justice to the gay hustlers’ story and the overall queer experience at the time. This film is also quite straightforward in its Shakespearean influences, and is most evident in some segments of the screenplay— however, it continues to read as a modern story. It features the late River Phoenix as Mike Waters, a narcoleptic, and his best friend, Scott Favor (played by Keanu Reeves), as they navigate the jacked-up world as two homeless young male prostitutes. Albeit being best friends under the same circumstances, Mike and Scott almost have nothing similar to each other.
Mike has a very broken history, and an even more troublesome present— at least, the ones he was awake to witness. Most days, he lives in the “in between,” on the road of nowhere. Due to his condition and his sexuality, has to live his life in the slums to get by.
Scott, on the other hand, is the fortunate mayor’s son, who can only be described as “sowing his oats” in an attempt to piss off his father before he gets his inheritance when he comes of age. Unlike Mike, he hangs out and lives the homeless male prostitution life as a choice. Quite an odd way to set a rebellion against his father, but these lost boys, especially Mike, take Scott in like family.
Mike’s narcoleptic episodes often feature dream-like sequences, with harrowing visions of surrealist settings, by which most scenes are tainted with his mother’s face. It is obvious that he yearns to look for her, and so he does. With Scott by his side, they embark on a mission to find his mother, where he is constantly met with almost dead ends and disappointments.
This is a film focused on Mike’s embarkation on practically a pointless journey, but we can’t help but find Scott Favor as the villain of this story. It was one thing to not reciprocate Mike’s love towards him, but he could barely even be called a good friend.
Along their journey sit Mike and Scott, illuminated only by the small fire they set at the side of the road. What was considered a small casual conversation between two friends, within a matter of seconds, turns into the most devastating part of the film. As they discuss the nature of sexuality and love, Mike’s mumbles are almost as loud as the fire’s crackles but loud enough for Scott to hear.
“I mean, for me, I could love someone even if I, you know, wasn’t paid for it…
I love you, and… you don’t pay me.”
As Mike bares his heart open for his best friend, Scott merely replies with a deadpan tone, reminding Mike that even he doesn’t believe that two men can love each other.
The cherry on top of this rejection is when Scott finds and falls in love with a woman amid their journey, essentially leaving Mike in a dead-ended search and a broken heart. That seemed to be the last time they see each other until years later, when Scott shows up in a now clean-cut look, with his sophisticated Italian trophy wife while they have dinner in a posh restaurant. When confronted with his past life in the slums, he doesn’t only pretend he doesn't know but instead ridicules that type of lifestyle.
All films discussed before this illustrate reciprocated love and loss; this is what sets My Own Private Idaho above the rest on this list. Mike Waters, throughout the film, does not receive the love he craves— not from his mother, not even from Scott Favor. We watch this cycle of sorrow, in his seemingly endless journey of agony and chagrin. The movie ends the same way it starts; even Mike acknowledges this, saying:
“I'm a connoisseur of roads. I've been tasting roads my whole life. This road will never end. It probably goes all around the world.”
Are you a fellow connoisseur of roads? Listen to this Spotify Playlist:
These four films invite us to explore the bittersweet beauty of love, and the sometimes inevitability of heartache that comes with it. La La Land, Atonement, Somewhere In Time, and My Own Private Idaho— films dear to my heart, reveal the true complexity of love, of pain, of loss.
These four films discussed each weave a tapestry of emotions, leaving a lasting impact on viewers, myself included. In this world of uncertainty and just a whole damn mess of things, we as the audience find a sense of chatarticism in the world of the beautiful cinematic blend of love and pain. We find comfort in these films that showcase melancholy as it gives a peek of true human emotion; something that is in our nature to yearn for.
So, let us continue to explore these films, embrace the love and pain they offer, and perhaps find a deeper understanding of our own emotions along the way.