Love Actually

"The nurses are trying to kill me."


Love Actually is so interesting because it instantly codes as sociopath anyone who dislikes it yet also marks those who do like it as filthy terrorists.

Hugh Grant's opening monologue explicitly laments 9/11—bet you don't remember that part of this feel-good Christmas classic—with the PM conjecturing that the last phone calls on United 93 were ones of love and not ones of hate or revenge. Prime Minister Nebbish implies that terrorism is not an act of love, which is deeply false. In fact, terrorism is based on the most profound sort of love—love for the nation, love for the religion, love for the race—the sort of love that drives one to mass murder. To depict relational love, mass love, like the closing images do is not helpful since Curtis has effectively turned love into ideology, similar to how every act of terror is borne out of love of a particular ideology.

Love Actually is a terrorist work because its characters are merely chess pieces, part of a grander scheme orchestrated by the God filmmaker. Curtis' agenda is a bold one: everyone must love, or we will die as a world. If a fucking stupid press conference by Grant's PM decrying America is celebrated despite its probable global financial implications, then that's just part of the plan. If Laura Linney's character—one of the worst to have ever been put on the screen—is the only character who is punished because she refuses to put out, that's part of the plan. If Colin Firth's bungled Portuguese marriage proposal evinces chuckles (as it should), then, well, that's just part of the plan.

Love Actually is one of the only films that makes you a bad person if you like it and if you don't, and that is the reason it should be studied

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