Serendipity (dir. Peter Chelsom, 2001)
Jonathan (John Cusack) and Sara (Kate Beckinsale) quite literally meet cute when they reach for the same pair of clothes on sale at Bloomingdale’s one Christmas Eve. They talk, they banter, they flirt, they share dessert at a popular Manhattan patisserie that has the same name as the movie, but they go no further than that because they are both in relationships at the moment. However, when they meet again that same night in an act of pure happenstance, they engage in an act that either qualifies as tempting fate or a shared manic episode. Jonathan has his name and number written on a five dollar bill, while Sara has hers written in a copy of Love in the Time of Cholera, which she clearly never finished reading. Fate, it seems, is not in there favor or you really shouldn’t let an elevator decide the course of your life. Either way, they part ways that night to presumably never see each other again, except that this is a film.
Several years later, Jonathan is engaged to be married to Halley (Bridget Moynihan, whose thankless role foreshadows her own life), and Sara, now living in San Francisco, is in a relationship with a New Age musician named Lars (John Corbett). Jonathan, plagued by absolute coincidences that remind him of Sarah, goes into full asshole mode and convinces his friend at the New York Times, Dean (Jeremy Piven), to help him find Sarah because it “[doesn’t] matter how much you love The Godfather Part II, you still have to see the original to understand and appreciate sequel.”
Jesus Christ, man. What is wrong with you? You obviously shouldn’t be in a relationship with Halley, because you shouldn’t be in a relationship with anyone.
Sara, meanwhile, is having her own crisis of fidelity, though hers is slightly more understandable as we hear her partner’s music. She, too, is repeatedly reminded of her exceedingly brief time with Jonathan, and has her own counsel in Eve (Molly Shannon), who is a deeply cynical huckster who uses Eastern religion and philosophy to sell, like, candles and shit.
Take a guess how the film ends.
In case it wasn’t obvious, I did not care for Serendipity. I’m not sure how anyone could, but apparently America was in a different headspace in the weeks following the September 11 attacks. I’m not opposed to a plot like this, either. I love Richard Linklater’s Before trilogy, but it really helps that those focus on interesting characters, is spaced out across eighteen years, and actually deals with the consequences of their actions. With Serendipity, you’re just stuck with a couple who will never ever shut up about how they met. It’s like concentrated insufferability.
oliveresque 