The measure of a film that counts as one which makes me happy surely has to be one which provides all the comfort of day on the sofa, wrapped in a cosy blanket while the weather buckets down outside (er … this has nothing to do with the rain teeming down outside my house, or that I’m wearing a cardigan in 19ºC weather, honest).
Singing in the Rain has been there on those dark nights of the literal and soul destroying type.
There is very little to mention about this film that hasn’t already been said – the story is simple, the characters are charming, the set pieces are infectious and it is all done so very, very well. And who wouldn’t fall in love with a man running a hot fever and dancing in watery milk? [yeah, I’m not the only one with a bit of a martyr complex]
Office Space (dir. Mike Judge)
On the other end of the scale, films like these are what you need after those seriously fucking awful days in the office. Nothing, NOTHING in the history of cinema captures workplace frustration like a printer.
The Philadelphia Story (dir. George Cukor)
So back in the distant past when I was horribly dumped, I watched this for the first time, watched the extras with Katherine Hepburn and thought “Damn, she’s awesome. When I grow up, I want to be like her”.
Strong, smart and a take no bullshit kind of attitude, I think this is one of her greatest performances (well, it was written for her). Add Cary Grant and James Stewart to the mix (as well as the extraordinary Ruth Hussey whose acid tongue of awesomeness as James Stewart’s … or Virginia Weidler as scene stealing little sister, Dinah Lord – there are awesome women everywhere here) and you have one hell of a film to lift a girl out of the dumps.