It was a sad day when Nora Ephron passed away. Ephron wrote When Harry Met Sally, and basically ushered in the modern era of romantic comedies. The last remnant of that era of romcom is Nancy Meyers, who hasn’t made a movie in two years, meaning the romcom void is ready to be filled. Sofia Alvarez and Netflix laid their claim with Lara Jean and Peter Kavinsky, but that’s high school. But then, here comes Stella Meghie with The Photograph, a sweet adult romcom about two nice people searching for love. I’m also predicting in a panic, Netflix will be giving Meghie a 3 picture deal to keep their monopoly on movies about lurv.
It’s a strange time for Mae (Issa Rae). Her mom, Christina (played by Chanté Adams as a younger woman), has just passed away, and left Mae a letter, detailing her life’s story. That’s not all: Christina’s last wish was for Mae to deliver Christina’s last letter to the boyfriend she left behind, Isaac (Rob Morgan). Isaac, at the same time, has been detailing his time with Christina to Michael (Lakeith Stanfield), a reporter for the Republic. Michael, doing an expose on Christina, seeks out Mae for more information, but it becomes pretty clear to both of them that their interests aren’t just Christina alone.
The Photograph is a swoon movie. Lakeith Stanfield and Issa Rae are hot, sexy, beautiful adults, both radiate sexual chemistry and charisma. They swoon for each other. To help make the audience swoon, writer/director Meghie layers on everything else. Mae’s living situations are gorgeous: high rises in the city with stunning African American art everywhere. She works in one of the best looking museums in the world, and she goes on dates in lounges that ooze romance with their firepits and smoothly colored decor. Most importantly, the music Meghie uses makes you feel like you’re on a date night in a low lit lounge whilst the best jazz band in the world is playing the beats of your heart. Stella Meghie knows how The Photograph makes her feel, and through visual and musical beauty, she relays to us those same feelings that make you go awwwwww….
Michael and Mae’s story is juxtaposed against younger Christina and Isaac’s. What’s clever in both stories is there’s no villain of any kind. Cheaper romcoms would introduce an ex from hell, or a cancer diagnosis or some cheap plot device. Christina and Isaac’s fatal flaw? Personal differences: Isaac is comfortable on the bayou, while Christina wants to chase the American dream. They love each other, but in the end that’s not enough: rash choices by both parties sever any chance for that lifelong connection they see in one another. Mae learns all these lessons through Christina’s letter, and can see parallels in her relationship with Michael, just basically opposite. They barely know each other, and Michael has a job offer that will take him away from New York City. And yet…there’s that connection Christina describes. Mae feels it, but is afraid to take that life leap, uprooting herself for love. Decisions and writing like that show that an adult wrote this movie, with a clear understanding of what loving someone means.
In the end, The Photograph to me represents progress. There’s storytelling progress, getting us out of cheap ploys and misunderstanding of romance. The female perspective truly feels equal here that it hasn’t before in other romcoms. Most importantly, people will probably talk about how great it is to see two African Americans with great careers lead a romcom. But The Photograph pushes further: what’s truly great is that their race isn’t a major part of the plot of the movie: they can simply be two hot young people searching for love, a truly universal experience.