The Line Between Romantic and Creepy

Recently I read a comedy article about the awful relationship advice contained in romantic comedy films.  There were some very valid criticisms about the tropes in such films, such as the coercive implications when a boss pursues an employee, people who fall in love with their stalkers, people who throw over presumably satisfying relationships to pursue the thrill of a chance-met stranger, men remaking women into their dream woman, and the perennial issue that I find particularly challenging, the hero who just "knows" that a woman is into him despite her vocal and frequent protests to the contrary.

A hug or a restraint is all in the experience of the one being held.

A lot of these criticisms can be summed up in one simple issue: what does the object of the character's affection truly want?

The black moment is a standard point in the plot arc.  It's the point when it seems impossible that the characters can be together.  Most romances follow the black moment with the grand gesture, when one character (often the man) does something public and dramatic to demonstrate that he is committed to the relationship more than anything else in his life.  The grand gesture is often the apex of the hero's character arc.  And it's usually one of the most touching and emotional parts of the story.

And yet critics of rom-com films have rightfully pointed out that the grand gesture can often also be interpreted as creepy.  A guy standing on your driveway with a boom box, blocking you from leaving?  Breaking up a wedding to proclaim your love for the bride or the groom?  Grabbing a person to kiss or grope them without any sign of their consent?  In real life, these are behaviours more like to lead to restraining orders instead of true love.

In a film, the hero doesn't know if the heroine is still willing to consider a relationship with him.  That's part of his character development, he's gambling on happiness rather than playing it safe.  However that is exactly the opposite tactic that people should follow in real life.  Because the truth is, unless you ask, you don't know what the other person is thinking and if they are no longer interested in you (or were never interested in you in the first place) then you have crossed a very important social boundary.

When I was researching emotional expression, I came across an interesting interpretation of the purpose of disgust: it's a sign of belonging.  If we are both disgusted by the same things, then our mutual connection to a particular group is reinforced.  And in personal relationships, suspension of disgust is a sign of affection.  It doesn't take much to think of examples.  My personal favourite is French kissing, which sounds like it should be awful (you let someone else stick their tongue in your mouth!) but is actually pleasurable when done with someone you're attracted to.

And that's really the fine line that separates romantic from creepy.  If a gesture or action prompts disgust in it's intended target, then it's horrible.  The action becomes an attempt to dominate or an expression of disrespect.

If the exact same gesture is met with welcome and affection, then it's romantic.  It's an expression of the feelings between the gesturer and the target.

In a film or a story, the writers and the audience know that the target is secretly receptive.  That's the definition of romance after all, that the characters will fall in love and be happy ever after.  There's no chance of disgust.

Real life is trickier.  People might appear to be receptive, but that's due to fear of being able to express their true feelings without repercussions, such as being fired by their boss or hurt/killed by their stalker.  A person forced to completely change their look and demeanor in order to be part of a relationship is being abused, not wooed.  And a guy might want to grab a girl and just kiss her (or vice versa), but if she is not reciprocating then the kiss is an unwelcome assault.

There's often a great deal of discussion about how much art should reflect real life.  And I believe that there is great opportunity within art to create change in how we see things in our everyday world.  In the late eighties, early nineties, romance made a concerted effort to normalize condom use and reframe it from a gesture of distrust into a symbol of protection and caring.  I believe that it is possible to do the same with consent, teaching people to see checking in with a partner as evidence of a true hero or heroine.  Recognizing a potential power imbalance and ensuring that their partner is entirely comfortable with what's occurring is a sign of respect and, indeed, confidence.  A character who doesn't feel the need to rush because they have faith in their partner is a darn seductive romantic lead.

And those are the kinds of stories that I want to read and write.

Previous Blog Post: Hidden Diamond: Sally Brandle's extraordinary heroines and romantic suspense adventures.

Blog homepage