I must admit Celeste and Jesse Forever didn’t appeal to me upon its initial release. Its marketing positioned it as yet another humdrum romantic comedy -- a genre of film that has quickly grown stale, predictable, and boring. But Forever is so much more than that. It carves out an achingly genuine take on a relationship that I couldn’t help but feel spoke to something far greater and truer than other romantic comedies in recent memory.
The plot can’t be described as anything overly groundbreaking. But that’s not a mold Forever ever sets out to break. Indeed, shaking the rigid genre formula of romantic comedy is a feat few, if any, stories can truly accomplish. And in Forever, written by Rashida Jones in what is a truly amazing turn as both feature film writer and actress, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
Celeste and Jesse are best friends who had gotten married years ago and are now amicably separated, but not divorced. If pressed, I believe almost everyone would be able to identify the usual cliches and archetypes that populate modern day romantic comedies. There are laughs and fights; there are colorful best friends who spout advice and admonishments; there are quirky subplots concerning career, family, and anything else that twentysomethings in any metropolitan city deal with on a daily basis. But to judge Forever purely based on its plot construction would be both unfair and sad.
What Forever aims for -- and indeed accomplishes -- is to tell a story about two people who, whether together or alone, are equals. In 2009’s bromantic comedy I Love You, Man, Rashida Jones played the lead’s fiance, relegated to literally wait at the altar while Paul Rudd’s character completed his journey of bromantic self discovery. She sat on the sidelines and quietly bided her time as the men had all the fun. I can’t help but see Forever as Rashida Jone’s own rebuttal to such stories.
Perhaps what Forever does best is construct two leads who both feel more organic, genuine, and flawed than any other leading couple in recent memory. It’s a story of a man and a woman whose friendship clearly runs deeper than what’s shown on screen -- a testament to both the writing and the chemistry shared by Jones and Samberg. But more than that, it’s a dissection of two people whose appeal to each other and by extension, the audience, is burnished in a rooted respect, not in fleeting lust or spiteful arguments. There’s a calm sense of confidence in its storytelling, a vulnerable take on a universal emotion that’s increasingly played more for sarcasm and laughs than for genuine grief or longing.
The greatest joys of watching movies lies in their ability to transport you to another world and another time. They speak to you, reach out to you, and make you believe that the sights and sounds are actually real. There’s a moment in the slow degradation of Celeste and Jesse’s relationship when they find themselves sitting silently on Celeste’s couch. They’ve both said what they wanted to say. Celeste expects Jesse to leave; he knows he should too. But they sit, eyes closed, nose to nose. Slowly, a ghostly melody echoes in the background as the image of these two people no longer look like characters in a story but begin echoing your own memories. It transcends its medium and sweeps you away to somewhere further and more emotional than you could have imagined. It’s a beautiful moment and the mark of a great movie.
The plot can’t be described as anything overly groundbreaking. But that’s not a mold Forever ever sets out to break. Indeed, shaking the rigid genre formula of romantic comedy is a feat few, if any, stories can truly accomplish. And in Forever, written by Rashida Jones in what is a truly amazing turn as both feature film writer and actress, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
Celeste and Jesse are best friends who had gotten married years ago and are now amicably separated, but not divorced. If pressed, I believe almost everyone would be able to identify the usual cliches and archetypes that populate modern day romantic comedies. There are laughs and fights; there are colorful best friends who spout advice and admonishments; there are quirky subplots concerning career, family, and anything else that twentysomethings in any metropolitan city deal with on a daily basis. But to judge Forever purely based on its plot construction would be both unfair and sad.
What Forever aims for -- and indeed accomplishes -- is to tell a story about two people who, whether together or alone, are equals. In 2009’s bromantic comedy I Love You, Man, Rashida Jones played the lead’s fiance, relegated to literally wait at the altar while Paul Rudd’s character completed his journey of bromantic self discovery. She sat on the sidelines and quietly bided her time as the men had all the fun. I can’t help but see Forever as Rashida Jone’s own rebuttal to such stories.
Perhaps what Forever does best is construct two leads who both feel more organic, genuine, and flawed than any other leading couple in recent memory. It’s a story of a man and a woman whose friendship clearly runs deeper than what’s shown on screen -- a testament to both the writing and the chemistry shared by Jones and Samberg. But more than that, it’s a dissection of two people whose appeal to each other and by extension, the audience, is burnished in a rooted respect, not in fleeting lust or spiteful arguments. There’s a calm sense of confidence in its storytelling, a vulnerable take on a universal emotion that’s increasingly played more for sarcasm and laughs than for genuine grief or longing.
The greatest joys of watching movies lies in their ability to transport you to another world and another time. They speak to you, reach out to you, and make you believe that the sights and sounds are actually real. There’s a moment in the slow degradation of Celeste and Jesse’s relationship when they find themselves sitting silently on Celeste’s couch. They’ve both said what they wanted to say. Celeste expects Jesse to leave; he knows he should too. But they sit, eyes closed, nose to nose. Slowly, a ghostly melody echoes in the background as the image of these two people no longer look like characters in a story but begin echoing your own memories. It transcends its medium and sweeps you away to somewhere further and more emotional than you could have imagined. It’s a beautiful moment and the mark of a great movie.
