Love Story (1970)

I will confess that I had never before seen Love Story, a nominee for Best Picture of 1970. I had, of course, heard lots about it, most of it bad. The rap on the movie is that it was nominated because of its financial success, hardly a surprising or even unusual move by Academy voters. I can't say after watching it that I feel it truly deserves its nomination, but it is an engrossing film, competently made and even effectively acted at times.

Ryan O'Neal and Ali McGraw play students at Harvard and Radcliffe, respectively. He's the wealthy one, the "golden boy" (was anyone better suited to play such a character than the young Ryan O'Neal?), while she's the scholarship girl from the poor background. Certainly, it's a cliche, and it was even in 1970. You know she's going to ridicule him at times about his family's riches--she calls him "preppy" all the time--and you know he's going to sacrifice it all for love, just to be with her. They're going to struggle financially, but their love will pull them through their money troubles. His father is stereotypically overbearing, trying to live out his ambitions through his son, trying to force his son into making all of the "right" decisions. Her father is saintly and accepting, as was her mother before the mother's untimely death. Her father doesn't even understand their plans to wed, but he willingly goes along with their unconventional ideas about marriage because...well, because he's the good father, don't you see? You get the picture.

Despite the formulaic plot, the scenes in the first half of the movie where these two meet and slowly fall in love are pretty magical. You get a real sense of the beginnings of a relationship, how people begin to care for each other. So good are some of the outdoor scenes that the snow becomes almost a third character. I realize that I'm setting myself up for ridicule in saying that the scenes of them playing football in a blizzard or making snow angels are effective, but these moments work, at least for me (and, apparently, many others). You can certainly understand why so many people went to see this film; it is almost a perfect date movie.

I say "almost" because of what happens in the second half of the film. It does indeed become overly melodramatic and maudlin after McGraw's character is diagnosed with what is apparently leukemia. By this time, you have invested emotionally in these characters' lives, and you could certainly sense the urgency of a young couple being torn apart by one's impending death. However, the film just doesn't maintain, for me, the intensity of the earlier scenes of them as their love grows and they begin a life of their own. You know she's going to die almost as soon as the diagnosis is made, so you really have no reason to continue hoping that their romance will survive. It can't; the movie has already said so. And the dialogue in the second half is groan-inducing far too often. One example: when her father tells O'Neal's character that he "wishes I hadn't told her that I would be strong for you." Just cry already, Dad. We know you want to; you have even earned the right to. Your young daughter is dying; it's acceptable to cry when that happens. Only a poor screenwriter would keep you from shedding tears.

McGraw, in particular, has been criticized for her performance in the film. She will never compete in the ranks of Meryl Streep or Katharine Hepburn, but for the most part, McGraw acquits herself nicely. It's only when she's given some rather overwrought dialogue (including one of the all-time worse lines: "Love means never having to say you're sorry") that she falls flat. When she and O'Neal are looking at each other or having a casual conversation rather than a "serious" discussion, she's fine. And her looks--she was a model before this film turned her career to acting--are certainly appealing; you can surely see why O'Neal's character was attracted to her.

I wish I could recommend that you watch only the first part of the movie, but then you won't truly get a sense of what O'Neal's character is trying to say in the opening scene. And you would miss Ray Milland's best scene as well; he plays O'Neal's father, and his visit to the hospital is almost enough to make you tear up (if you haven't already). It's one of the few instances of an actor overcoming the writing in the second half of the film. Even if you stay for the entire film, you'll still manage to see a movie that manages even after a quarter-century to draw out emotions, some of them honestly.