A Nostalgic-Romantic Movie Guide: The Best Romance Films through the Year

 

Hiroshima Mon Amour, 1959

Oh, Love! Our greatest cultural invention. 

For centuries, millennia even, people married one another as a pure transactional practice–for trade, land, power, and money. And then, sometime in the year 1147,  poets began to contemplate the idea of romantic love. A love that doesn’t require children, money, or any kind of strategic alliance but rather a pure infatuation–love at first sight, if you will. Since then, the concept of love has kept evolving: it broke societies, inspired revolutions, rose to one of our most sacred values, and, eventually, has been marketed and sold to us like no other product. But the cultural impact love has had on our world urged us to create some of the most powerful and beautiful art. As we continue to nurture the eternal power that romance has over us, it is natural that hundreds of movies celebrating love come out every year since, well, since we started making movies. More movies are added to the list of romances, which makes it that much harder to choose one to watch. Through this guide, I will highlight the monuments of the genre through each decade and hopefully make it easier to choose your next romantic watch- or spark the urge to revisit a favorite!

The ’50s 

Between drama, musicals, and war stories, romance was far from being a popular genre in the ’50s, yet some of the most well-known romantic movies came out during the decade: An Affair to Remember, Singin’ in the Rain, or To Catch a Thief to name a few. In this post-war period, people started to progressively value their leisure time, as seen in the rise of fast-food restaurants, drive-in theaters, and overall home comfort. Naturally, the movie industry changed accordingly and followed the general desire for new and exciting symbols of rebellion by introducing films with more anti-heroes and sex symbols. But looking in the margins of this new, youth-oriented market, a few love stories were released during the decade with unmatched maturity and beauty. Hiroshima Mon Amour and Roman Holiday belong to these films that stood out. 

Roman Holiday, 1953

Roman Holiday is one of these movies you can’t watch without having a smile on your face the whole time. Its enchanting quality makes every rewatch feel like a big hug no matter when or where we watch it. And while we can’t seem to understand what it is about that film that makes us feel this way, there are a few things I want to point out. For one, it has a refreshing honesty and authenticity that is hard to come by on-screen, even in modern cinema. And I know what you are thinking: How can such an ancient trope, that of a hopeless love between royalty and common people, be refreshing? The sharp humor, lighthearted dialogue, and unconventional characters completely modernized the tale. However, that is not to say the film is devoid of drama. On the contrary, it was able to preserve a precious vulnerability that eventually exploded in one of the most heartbreaking endings.

Hiroshima Mon Amour, 1959

Characterized by its provocative intimacy and overwhelming melancholia, this film remains one of the most sensual and poetic movies made to this day. In his thought-provoking study of love, time and memory, Renais was able to artistically merge documentary footage of Hiroshima with a melancholic love story. Detached from all the glamorous and sugar-coated portrayals of romances at the time, the film dives headfirst into the depth of human connection, leaving its viewers with a feeling far more real than artificial entertainment. With a screenplay by French author Marguerite Duras, you can sense by the film’s delicacy and emotional maturity that a woman was behind the groundbreaking and emotionally devastating story. On a more film-focused note, the shattering of time and non-linear storytelling make this film one of the most influential of its time and is considered to be one of the first movies that sparked the French New Wave movement. 

The ’60s 

The ’60s was not a peaceful period for cinema, to say the least. Between worldwide political unrest, cultural revolution, the rise of television, and the abolition of the Hays Code, the industry drastically changed. Hollywood movies, documentaries, and independent and experimental films all leaned towards generally a more cynical, violent, and blunt kind of content, as seen in the numerous gangster, thriller, horror, and western films that were made during the decade. While the changing values of the time did not revolve so much around love and romance, a few filmmakers around the world kept the romance genre alive through movies such as Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Bonnie and Clyde, and The Americanization of Emily. The two romantic films that stood out during this unstable and evolving cinematic period were The Umbrellas of Cherbourg and Romeo and Juliet. 

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, 1964

The true ancestor of our precious La La Land, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is a romantic’s dream come true: with terrible cinematic beauty and charm, and childlike sincerity, the film navigates between tragedy and comedy with unmatched finesse. While it doesn’t share the same freedom and spontaneity as the other French New Wave films at the time, its meticulously constructed plot allows for a harmonious dance between the dramatic and the musical elements of the movie. Under the film’s pure melodic and visual prowess lies a much stronger foundation: the story of the loss of first love. With incredible sweetness and sentimentality, Demy, in his artificial pastel world, explores the relationship between dream and reality, eventually leading to a few bittersweet scenes that seem to all come to the same conclusion: love does not conquer all. But don’t be fooled by the not so romantic lesson; this film is a true celebration of love in the first place. 

Romeo and Juliet, 1968

Romeo and Juliet, 1968, is the best on-screen adaptation of Shakespeare. The story never came more alive than in Franco Zeffirelli's 1968 production for one and simple reason: his choice of actors. Their youth tints the entire plot with the necessary spontaneity and freshness that perfectly complements Shakespeare’s portrayal of first love. Zeffirelli was able to give us what we truly desire: the essence and passion of the original story, engrained throughout the film with poetic precision. Here again, we explore the tragic theme of the loss of first love, yet the film was able to preserve something essential to its thematic inquiries: the sincerity of the lovers. In a society where young people become more and more hungry for action and conflict, movies don’t take their time anymore, rushed by their desire to feed their viewers’ short attention span. Romeo and Juliet unfolds with a natural speed, giving us the time to feel every emotion and appreciate a more satisfying build-up to the ending. 

The ’70s 

There’s an eternal debate about whether the ’70s was the best era for cinema. A lot changed during the decade: filmmakers moved away from conventional productions and experimented a lot, resulting in more realistic- not to say pessimistic- movies coming out during the period. There was still a lot going on in the world, and for most people, it was a worrying and disturbing period. In response to this social context, the film industry juggled between reflective cinema and escapist cinema, eventually giving birth to some of the most beautiful and critically acclaimed movies such as The Godfather, Apocalypse Now, Goodfellas, and Chinatown to name a few. And while the industry was peaking, releasing hit after hits, we’re still left starving for more romance. Thankfully, there were still directors that did give up on love yet. Woody Allen and Terrence Malick were among them, with Annie Hall and Badlands, respectively. 

Badlands, 1973

Just like Romeo and Juliet, Badlands recounts a story firmly rooted in the world of cinema; it has been told in Bonnie and Clyde, Easy Rider, or more recently, The End of The F***ing World. The story of two lovers, who, after committing a series of crimes, are chased by the authorities and decide to run away. Badlands’s protagonists are unconventional criminals, unfazed in the face of death and devoid of any moral compass. Yet in these shallow and childish characters, we find something charming that glues us to them throughout the story. Maybe it’s their innocent faith in each other, maybe it’s their complex paradox of being sympathetic antiheroes, or maybe it’s the actors’ perfect embodiment of the characters. Maybe it can even be the skeleton of the film, a romanticized voiceover that glides over the visual poetry of the shots and sheds light on the protagonist’s impenetrable mind. 

Annie Hall, 1977

Redefining the laws of rom-coms, Woody Allen gave us a more realistic take on romantic love in his 1977 film. Annie Hall is nothing less than a magnetic, impossible to take your eyes off of-romantic comedy with all of Allen’s most cherished trademarks: sharp satire, cultural references, witty dialogue, and boundless experimentation (namely, nonlinear storytelling, split-screen scenes and breaking the fourth wall). But Allen’s characters are what makes his films so touching. They’re full of insecurities, awkwardness, and quirks that make them so human and real. Just like The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is La La Land’s ancestor, Annie Hall can be Charlie Kaufman’s. A bit more lighthearted, Allen shares the same realism as Kaufman in the sense that they both master passionate pain with a novelesque romanticism. Something to highlight in Annie Hall, however, is how it portrays women. More specifically, Allen’s ability to write great female roles with substantial character. 

The ’80s 

While the ’70s were years of experimentation, the ’80s didn’t follow the innovative trends and originality of the previous decade. The movie industry, hypnotized by mass audience appeal, was generally more concerned about the release of 'high-concept' films, Hollywood blockbusters, and specific-effects-heavy productions than artistic and cinematic progress. It was a decade all about sexy action-packed and flashy movies like Flashdance, Back to the Future, and Top Gun. The industry completely turned towards the tastes and desires of young people and film budgets skyrocketed with new special effects, highly paid movie stars, and big business increasingly taking control over the industry. In this new wave of exciting and spectacular movies, independent productions lost power in the face of the mainstream. While only a few indie movies gained recognition before they saw a boom of the movement in the 90s, independent filmmakers like Richard Linklater, David Lynch, and John Hughes stayed true to themselves. In this small bubble of independent films, romantic movies such as The Green Ray and Maurice deserve a presence on this list. 

The Green Ray, 1986

The Green Ray is not a horror movie, but I can assure you that  it will scare you. Not because of its story, not because of its shots, but because of how relatable its protagonist is. Part of Eric Rohmer’s six-part series Comedies and Proverbs and written in collaboration with its lead Marie Rivière, The Green Ray tells the story of Delphine, a young woman who struggles to plan her summer holiday and navigates between her friends, chased by a constant fear of isolation and loneliness. On the brink of giving up on her faith in destiny, she finally conquers her presumed lonely fate when she meets a stranger on her way home. Rohmer turned what some may call a banal plotline into the most profound and mysterious exploration of love and loneliness, and how we come to approach such topics as humans. In his almost documentary-like portrayal of Delphine, Rohmer’s protagonist couldn’t be more real. From the precision of her expressions to her eternal frustrations in the matters of loving and being loved, Marie Rivière’s interpretation of Delphine’s interactions with others and with herself is overwhelmed with authenticity and sincerity. 

Maurice, 1987

How could I talk about romance without mentioning a Merchant Ivory film? After all, the production company is behind pillars of the genre, namely A Room with a View, The Remains of the Day, or Howards End. While mostly known for its nearly perfect adaptations of period dramas, James Ivory, one of the two directors part of the Merchant-Ivory duo, also wrote two benchmark films of LGBTQ+ cinema: Maurice and Call Me by Your Name (the latter of which, spoiler alert, will also figure on this list). Maurice, adapted from the novel of the same name written by  E. M. Forster in 1914, is a poignant portrayal of two young men forced to deny their love. Originally considered as Forster's attempt to deal in fiction with his own homosexuality, it was not until after long his death that the book was published and eventually became a classic of LGBTQ+ literature. 

The ’90s 

The ’90s are when the Romance genre started to bloom in the industry. While mainstream movies continued to take over the industry, more and more filmmakers grew tired of the hold Hollywood studios had on production constraints and sought more artistic freedom through a new movement; the ’90s indie cinema. Naturally, as writers and directors broke free of  the restrictions imposed by big production companies, they ventured into more taboo topics and freely portrayed life as they saw it, exchanging action and adventure for drama and romance. One genre, however, equally  rose to extreme popularity among all kinds of productions: rom-coms, which we already started to see in the ’80s with Dirty Dancing, Sixteen Candles, and When Harry Met Sally. While I enjoyed Notting Hill, Clueless and Sleepless in Seattle, one romantic comedy stood out for me: 10 Things I Hate About You. However, since I’m not the biggest fan of rom-coms, my second choice for this decade is one of my favorite  romantic/drama films: Before Sunrise. 

Before Sunrise, 1995

​​Before Sunrise is the epitome of the indie romance. It’s all about being real: shot in real location with a small budget, relying a lot on creative spontaneity and improvisation rather than a meticulously crafted plan. In fact, Before Sunrise was so impulsive that Linklater (the film’s director),  Julie Delpy, and Ethan Hawke (the actors who played the protagonists) were up until 3 in the morning rewriting the final scene the night before the shooting. This raw and organic creative process is precisely what makes Before Sunrise feel like real life, almost like a documentary. As we follow the story’s protagonists not as mere viewers behind a screen but as voyeurs behind an invisible camera, we can’t help but fall in love with Linklater’s realness. From the rich dialogue to the authentic performance of the actors, the film transports us right to the heart of the story, allowing us to feel every awkward and sweet moment as they naturally unfold on screen. 

10 Things I Hate About You, 1999

This is the second “modern” Shakespeare adaptation on this list, loosely inspired by the English playwright’s The Taming of the Shrew and situating the ancient plot idea in a 90s high school setting. But unlike most adaptations of Shakespeare, the movie breaks away from dehumanized stereotypes and does not fall for recycled formulas and high school rom-com tropes. Perhaps the best thing about the rom-comis its spirit: the engaging and charismatic characters, cheerful music, and inevitable Shakespearean romance, so touching that it stays with you for life. But what makes this film so unforgettable is its cultural context, more specifically, the reflection of such context. Everything about this movie screams 1999. Maybe even less its superficial surface (costumes, music, and background), and more its heart and essence, how it was able to be modernized through the justified feminist anger and independence of its heroine. 

The ’2000s

The transition from the 20th to the 21st century was shaped by the creation of new technologies and the expansion of media culture. More filmmakers were finally able to lower production costs using new video technology (digital video cameras, computer animation, etc.). This resulted in a general increase of films released during the decade from all over the world, eventually broadening the international film culture. Films became more fluid in terms of their origin: mixed locations, multiple languages, international director collaborations, and so on, which somewhat made it difficult to sustain the presence of national film movements as we knew them (i.e. Italian Neorealism, the French New Wave, or New German Cinema). In fact, if you look closely at what types of movies were released during the ’2000s, it’s hard to identify specific trends or characteristics. Rather, the decade was a melting pot of cultural influences, production types, and film genres. As every facet of the film industry flourished, the independent film movement kept growing, giving voice to marginalized voices in the industry (women, BIPOC, etc.). I think it is by far the most interesting decade for cinema, which made it hard for me to reduce my selection to two movies. In terms of romance, it’s difficult to find better than In the Mood For Love and Amelie

In The Mood for Love, 2000

The perfect example of the rise of international cinema, In the Mood for Love is a Hong-Kong film directed by Wong Kar-Wai. The ultimate “right person wrong time” story, told in the most touching and beautiful cinematic language to grace our screens. In a similar way to Hiroshima Mon Amour, In the Mood for Love is a time-specific exploration of romantic longing and doomed romance with a particular emphasis on its cultural context, Hong Kong in the 1960s. As attractive as the themes of the movie are, it is their visual expression that makes this film unforgettable. With the help of his cinematographer Christopher Doyle, Wong Kar-Wai took visual beauty to a new level with abstract and delicately composed frames full of lush colors gracefully gliding across our screens. It is in fact precisely in this refined visual language that lies the film’s universality. In the Mood for Love artfully translates the universal feeling of love into captivating images and hypnotizing music.  

Amélie, 2001

Continuing this 90’s international trend, Amélie comes from France (Paris, more specifically). The director, Jean-Pierre Jeunet, broke as many rules as Allen. With its novelesque voice-over, bold breaking of the fourth wall, Wes-Andersonesque composition, and witty humor, the film is part of its own category. Jeunet juggled many different stylistic influences in Amélie, turning the film into a continual dance between colorful cartoons, Chaplinesque silent films, and childhood fairy tales. Just like In the Mood for Love, Amélie is what we can call cinematic “bon-bon” with its astonishing visual inventions and recurrent use of saturated colors. But unlike Wong Kar-Wai’s heart-shattering film, the cinematic tone of Amélie is much more playful, which perfectly complements the innocence of the story. However that is not to say the film is childish– let’s not forget that before being a charming comedy, Amélie is a touching romance that cuts right through your heart the same way  a teenage crush does. 

The 2010s

The ’2010s was a decade of extremes for cinema. The fast development of the internet and increased access to cameras made it easier for people to make movies, tightening the gap between amateur and professional filmmaking. Between the comeback of horror, the growing popularity of unhappy endings, the rise of female filmmakers with the Me Too and Time’s Up movements, and an overall increase of ethnically diverse and LGBTQ+ representations, it's safe to say the decade was one of the most chaotic ones in film history. From period dramas to psychological thrillers or even documentaries, each genre got its development, and we even saw the popularization of cross-genre movies. To me, this was the hardest decade to choose from in terms of romance movies, simply because so many moving that came out during this period. I mean, this is the decade when Phantom Thread, Portrait of A Lady on fire, Blue Valentine, Her, and La La Land all came out. As the digital age and the world of streaming services continues to dry out movie theaters, more and more people claim that cinema is dead. While there surely are downsides to the way cinema is progressing, one thing is very clear to me: each year movies become more and more real, honest, and poignant. The poof lies in the next two films: Call Me By Your Name and Carol. 

Carol, 2015

What’s better than to end this list with two LGBTQ+ movies? Carol is based on Patricia Highsmith’s 1952 book The Price of Salt, which is now seen as a staple of LGBT+ literature for its exploration of subversion, obsession, repression, and conformity, themes that equally obsessed the director of the film Todd Haynes. Like many movies on this list, Carol is a lush romance about forbidden love–because what’s more attractive and emotionally overwhelming than longing for something we can’t have ? Just like Bandland, Lolita, or Thelma and Louise, the story culminates in a lovers’ criminal escape across the country. On the surface, Haynes’s thrilling romance couldn’t be prettier; the impeccable production design with its gorgeous color palette, exquisite attention to detail and texture manages to create the perfect atmospheric and aesthetic mood. Thanks to the writer’s and the director’s literary and artistic sensibilities, we are offered one of the most profound portrayals of both loneliness and intimacy. Carol is wrapped in the intensity of human connection, a majestic ode to loving and being loved, it should be cherished by the romantics for eternity. 

Call Me By Your Name, 2017

If you’ve read my previous articles, you’re probably tired of how ridiculously often I mention Call Me By Your Name. My eternal love for love pushes me to almost religiously look for ways to recommend this film. Call Me By Your Name is not only a precious piece of modern literature but a cinematic gem, capturing romantic melancholy like no others. It also utilizes its protagonist's vulnerable narration to navigate relevant themes like maturation and self-discovery, erotic exploration, fulfillment, and first love. The tenderness and intimacy of the story, to me, found their refuge in sound design; the whispers, the crickets, the crackles, the wind, and the sighs. The warmth of summer nostalgia is in each frame; the sun through leaves, the hiss of insects beside a hidden pond, the storm clouds and the echoes of nighttime filtering in through large open windows all call to mind summer’s unfocused allure. In addition to the film’s sensorial sensuality, Call Me By Your Name plays with our emotions, dragging us through the burning pleasures of a slow burn story. 

 
Samsha Massonbatch 9