The first line of Peyton Reed's terrific and painfully underrated parody and homage to the classic rom-coms of the 50’s and 60’s is one of the finest immediate solidifications of tone I think I’ve ever found in a comedy; as a charming voice-over relates to us that “The year is now! 1962”. The playful nature of Eve Ahlert and Dennis Drake’s affectionate, winking, dry and sly script is made known, and Peyton Reed’s slight modernisation of the classic camera formulas of those very films underscores the line too. We know from the immediate offset that we are dealing fundamentally with a downright hilarious film and one that will not only send up those glorious films of the Doris and Rock era, but also respect and deliver a film that could have just aswell have come out in 1962 itself. It’s a battle of the sexes like no other and frankly its one of the, most gloriously enjoyable romps of the decade. And as aforementioned, a film that I truly feel to be painfully underrated, and in many ways I don’t know why. There is the camp that some may argue it’s too old-fashioned, however as already stated Reed has pumped this perfectly toned send-up with a modern adrenaline that removes all the possible foibles of the films of that era. I can’t concur why the film isn’t overly beloved, I can only comment on why I adore it is as much as I do.

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“In 1962 New York City, love blossoms between a playboy journalist and a feminist advice author”; that’s our pitch perfect plot for a sparingly anachronistic look at a slightly comedically heightened classic rom-com premise. Our playboy is Ewan McGregor’s Catcher Block, an absolutely knockout charisma machine, working like something that’s been oiled and fine-tuned like you’ve never seen before. Along with Renee Zellweger as the flirtatiously and cunningly clever Barbara Novak. Trust me when I say how quickly a screen lights up when either of these two are on it, and boy, when they’re together – you ain’t seen it since Doris and Rock, but this time it’s certainly a far more sexually charged affair. For as much as it is 1962, it’s also 2003, and the sort of under the cover sex jokes that were all wink and smile back then, can now have their innuendos be just that little bit more daring, whilst of course still keeping them just that, innuendoes. For Down With Love is not in the business of making a sex farce, it’s in the business of fuelling a classic rom-com homage with a sexual ferocity that those films unfortunately never had the chance to let loose.

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If however I was to pick one major winner from the film, besides our two darling leads, it would have to be Peyton Reed, whom nowadays is pumping out Ant-Man films, but once upon a time was making interesting high concept comedies (Yes Man, for instance, not this level of masterpiece of course, but a fine film in it's own right). All throughout Reed fuses the classic tropes of these films, such as the split-screen comedy conversation and cross-cutting montages highlighting the battle of the sexes element, all the while imbuing it with a wryness that allows for our fun ride to just never stop. In a TV spot McGregor and Zellweger (God, that’s fun to say) declared the film to be an “old-fashioned romance with a twist” and frankly I couldn’t put it better much myself. The script itself is a fabulous piece of work with zinger after perfectly composed zinger, being fired back and forth by characters of great comedy, great romance and ultimately great enjoyability and watchability. One of the finest and most ridiculous moments of writing, performance and direction is a hilariously unbroken shot of Zellweger relaying her motivation for the film over three minutes, all in one static shot. Again a moment where Reed’s direction brings his own comedic flare for direction, rather than just aping and lampooning the direction of the bygone era. Rather than a complete send-up, the film is more so a fusion of the old-fashioned and the modernised retrospectives of 2003. It’s that sort of retrospective that can allow for the angles of more modern feminism and homosexuality to be looked at in the film, or rather for the film to comment on how the films of that bygone era commented (or rather remained silent or vague) about certain elements that were naturally just as much a part of life then as they are now. Sarah Paulson and David Hyde Pierce, who would both come out in the immediate years following the film, allow for a winking nature in their characters and performances to take a stab at some of the broad stereotypes and casually homophobic comments of that era in film. In retrospective of course Rock Hudson’s own closeted nature makes certain scenes in his films astoundingly interesting on another look.

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But to make those comments land we must first be completely within the world of 1962, which at every turn the film allows us to be. The glorious costuming of  Daniel Orlandi, making every single item of clothing head to foot for the leads custom made, perfectly further bring us into the world of the Technicolor mirage of fluorescents. Jeff Cronenweth, the films cinematographer (known for creating the darkest of digital darks for David Fincher) furthered the Technicolor even more, colour-timing the movie to perfect the appearance of three-strip Technicolor, the exact same fashion used for the Rock and Doris movies of the bygone era we keep referring to. The film of course also employs multiple familiar faces from the era, in particular in the casting of Tony Randall (Lover Come Back, Pillow Talk and Send Me No Flowers) as a higher-up at Novak’s publishing company. Again however the film in no way rests on its laurels, giving Randall great lines that he relishes delivering in a fashion that makes one question whether that sort of pure comedic talent can ever be lost. Also I would feel remiss to no mention the masterpiece level closing credit musical number that really does lead to this film becoming more than just a strong 9 for me, and even perhaps a 10/10. The film concludes with an original song and dance called Here’s to Love, written by the films composer and legendary Broadway songwriter Marc Shaiman, and performed by Zellweger and McGregor, both hot off major musical success (Moulin Rouge! and Chicago). As a matter of fact the number came about by request from the performers themselves. Here’s to Love has actually been in my Spotify top 100 songs for the past five years – you can decide whether or not that’s sad. Either way the song is an undeniably rapturuous conclusion to a film that celebrates, dissects and romps away like the most enjoyable comedies can have the capability to do. It’s blissfully tight running time always flies by and if the previous 1,000 words didn’t make it clear – Watch this bloody film as soon as you can! And if you have, then I have no doubt you’ve spent this article nodding along in agreement. And for those of you readers shaking your heads instead, well, I am in dismay.

-       -   Thomas Carruthers