Anyone But You: Mind Your Own Business?

 Anyone But You: Much Ado About other people’s business

I’m intrigued by the social media phenomenon around Glen Powell and Sydney Sweeney’s on-screen chemistry in their recent rom-com Anyone But You. When did audiences decide that it was our right to ask invasive questions or assume certain things about the personal lives of professional actors? Or perhaps the better question to ask - when did the film industry change to make audiences so dangerously and uncomfortably invested in actor’s personal lives? 

I want to say Glen Powell and Sydney Sweeney (along with any other actor) owe us nothing when it comes to divulging the details of their personal lives. It’s crazy to me that people seem to have forgotten that what we see on our screens is not necessarily a reality. Yes, it’s clear from interviews and press events that Powell and Sweeney get along well and have a strong working relationship, but that doesn’t guarantee they are interested in each other in real life. The bottom line is they’re actors, doing their job. 

It seems that romance is the only genre where this level of blatant nosiness is so expected and so acceptable. We watch action films and don’t automatically assume the actors in those roles are violent or aggressive people. Keanu Reeves plays John Wick, but I don’t see anyone accusing him of being anything less than an absolute gentleman. We watch actors play villains, but we don’t assume the character has any relation to the actor’s personality or ethics. In fact, we often praise those actors for being so skilled as to be able to convince us that they might be as evil as they appear on screen. No one accused Christian Bale of being a psychopathic serial killer and rapist after American Psycho was unleashed to the public. Indeed, more recently, audiences have made a particular effort to express sympathy for Evan Peters following his performance as Jeffrey Dahmer, whilst also appreciating the quality of his performance. Now, I realise I’m comparing the rom-com to very different genres here, but the question still stands: what is it about romance that people seem to believe is somehow closer to true representations of emotion and identity? 

My guess is it’s because in some way romance is more accessible to us than villainy or heroism. Romance permeates our everyday lives, and perhaps therefore we feel more qualified to comment and make judgments on romance than any other genre because we can use our own personal experiences. In an interview, Powell mentioned some advice he received from co-star Dermot Mulroney, who advised Powell to make sure he took his job seriously because his job was to represent love to audiences. I believe there’s truth in that. Love is indeed one of life’s great mysteries, and always has been. Why do we reiterate our romance stories throughout history if not to try and make sense of love in whatever way we can? Love is something that is shared across time and space, so yes, it’s a pretty big deal to represent love on screen to audiences, no matter how silly or improbable the story. But how that representation is done is a responsibility taken on by the actors, not something audiences ought to dictate. 

Love in film is just that: a representation of love, not a guarantee of truth. Love on film gives audiences a chance to see what love might be like, so that we can engage with that age-old mystery of love. Whether we think what we’re seeing is real or not is irrelevant; what we see on screen is just one suggestion amongst countless other suggestions of what love is.