Spoilers spoilers spoilers. If you haven’t seen One Day, and think you might, read no further.
One Day is the big romantic film of the moment, and I noticed it on Tuesday when Sainsbury’s had a thousand copies on offer as part of their Valentine’s Day promotions. I’m always one for such films, and I was also leaving work early due to being a walking petri dish, so I figured I might need something to cheer me up during the week. But there was a queue a mile long, so I called in to my local Tesco instead (bear with me). Tesco, oddly, weren’t promoting it at all, despite having the longest, pinkest, teddybunnyest, massivecardest, frontofstoreest V-Day getup I’d ever seen, but I eventually dug out a copy from the DVD aisle and headed home to sink into 48hrs of delirium.
After some of the weirdest cold-induced breakdowns of reality I can remember – on Wednesday night I had a 4hr dream I was a rock, but in the wrong order – I wobbled back onto your planet and tried to pass the still-a-bit-Dali time with television and more television. And so yesterday I settled in for a cosy evening of Anne Hathaway + Some Guy having a bit of a time of it, but ending up happy. I reckoned thousands of people had probably done the exact same thing a few nights before. Which all seemed fine and good. And if you’ve read this far you probably know what’s coming next.
Romantic it was. Happy it was not. Anne Hathaway is hit by a truck about 3/4 way through (no warning or foreshadowing – she didn’t even cough), and the rest of the film is about grief.
Nicely handled grief, admittedly, but it wasn’t the uplifting this-time-next-year-that’ll-be-me fantasy I’d maybe wanted. Which is not a complaint. I enjoyed it, in the usual redefined ‘enjoyment’ sense of being sad for a bit and then no longer being sad.
Still though, Sainsbury’s gave a lot of people a peculiar Valentine’s night. I mean, the love-for-today message is actually delightful, really, but is still quite focused on the possibility of imminent death. Certainly enough to make any segues pretty awkward. You’d probably have to do the washing up, to be honest.
I’m going to give the benefit of the doubt to Tesco, though, and assume they saw all this coming and saved their customers the existential dissonance by burying the DVD at the back of the shop. Good Tesco. Bad Sainsbury’s.
Anyway, someone’s lent me Beaches, which I haven’t seen but is apparently great, so I’m going to go cheer myself up.