This doesn’t mean that every film about love is a good film – Ryan Murphy’s The Prom proves this – but it’s harder to admit that you were moved by a tender portrayal of love than it is to say that a show about gangsters is good. Richard Curtis once pointed out that his films are criticised for being unrealistic but “If you make a film about a soldier who goes awol and murders a pregnant nurse – something that’s happened probably once in history – it’s called searingly realistic analysis of society.” You don’t have to like Curtis or PS I Love You to see his point. Reviewing for the Guardian, Peter Bradshaw slapped the label “necrophiliac high concept” on this film about a woman trying to deal with the paralysing grief of losing the love of her life. There can be immense self-satisfaction in pissing on films that honestly try to capture the ugly ecstasy of all-consuming love.
There’s a peculiar snobbery that taints the reception to films like PS I Love You. Knowing that Gerry is soon to die paints these moments a sickly grey, and the sentimental trap of pretending the relationship was perfect is skillfully avoided. The argument and reconciliation, which Empire described as “one of the worst scenes of the year”, is utterly believable: the frustration at the parallel conversations sailing past each other the extraordinary way in which the couple make up, breathlessly kissing each other by way of apology. A long first scene shows us Holly and Gerry arguing as they walk into their too-small New York apartment, unconsciously undressing for bed as they snap and bicker. Rewatching the film, I basically start crying about 12 minutes in. It doesn’t sound like thigh-cracking stuff, which is what makes its success all the more fantastic. It’s about Holly (Hilary Swank) trying to cope after her husband Gerry (Butler) dies in his 30s of a brain tumour. PS I Love You is based on the Cecelia Ahern novel of the same name.
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