Isn't it romantic?

I was in the mood to watch a silly, romantic movie. I'm so happy I found Notting Hill on Netflix. (It'll be on the network through the rest of May 2021.)

The movie was the perfect choice on so many levels.

First, both Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant are perfectly cast.

Second, I miss London terribly and seeing it so beautifully idealized eased the ache.

Thirdly, as much as the cast—not just Roberts and Grant, but also Hugh Bonneville (Downton Abbey), Rhys Ifans (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Berlin Station), Gina McKee (The Forsyte Saga; Phantom Thread), Tim McInnery (Blackadder, Game of Thrones), and the late great Emma Chambers (The Vicar of Dibley)—was relatable in all its youthful glory, it's fun to see how, in the ensuing years, these actors have stretched in roles that show their depth and versatility in their craft.

Not that I feel Rhys could ever live down spending half the movie in his non-tidy non-whiteys, especially when posing for the paparazzi, no matter how many well-dressed buff baddies he plays.

Then there are reasons four, five, six, and seven: I revere Richard Curtis as a writer/director. I also adored Four Weddings and a Funeral; one of my favorite scenes of all time is in Love, Actually, when Emma Thompson is sobbing in her bedroom when she realizes her husband is having an affair (I cry every time I see it), and Bridget Jones's Diary will always define the modern woman's perfect love story for me.

I'm sure you're wondering why I'd watch a movie that is now over twenty years old when there are endless video choices, what with all the streaming channels and an endless amount of programming, both new and old shows. Martin and I have been ricocheting from one streamer to another, through one series to another, or bingeing on classic films and French crime dramas and British period pieces. But what I needed tonight was the equivalent of visual and emotional comfort food: meatloaf and mashed potatoes with peppermint ice cream for dessert.

Not to mention a silly, sappy, sweet, totally illogical, sublimely irrational in its plot.

Ain't love grand?

—Josie