I’ll tell you a secret
let’s make this perfectly clear
there’s no secrets this year

I saw (500) Days of Summer on Friday, and I loved it. I’ll just say that right at the beginning. In fact, I thought it was one of the most sincere films I’ve ever seen.

The movie sets up Tom as a melodramatic and deeply disappointed romantic, opposite the skeptical but equally melancholy Summer, and the narrator tells you right at the beginning that the couple doesn’t make it and that this is not a love story. Which is true. But it is, I think, a story about what happens when love is missing, or when it’s defined wrongly. But more than love, the movie is about honesty: as a virtue, a shield, a tool. Summer, the object of adoration in her inferiority-complex-inducing vintage dresses, is maddeningly frank with Tom, and his inability to accept her version of truth as real, at least for her, is the eventual downfall of the relationship.

“Love is a fantasy,” she says to Tom. Romantic comedies are full of this sort of line: usually spoken by a character who’s lost faith in love, but who is eventually convinced otherwise by an infatuated partner in a last-ditch race to the airport. I always laugh a little here, because the point was never whether love is real or not. The point is what you believe and what you’re willing to prioritize and make real, and if someone who is invested in your choice, who stands to gain from it, is trying to convince you that you believe something you don’t and YOU GO WITH THEM, then YOU are at fault when it eventually goes down in flames. Because all you’ve done is accept their version of the truth, not changed your own in any appreciable way, and that is going to come back to you someday.

Lay your head down at my feet
I’ll blow you kisses while you sleep
and when I know you’re safe and dreaming
my escape plans in full swing

Summer doesn’t make this mistake. She likes Tom, likes being around him, likes having sex with him, but when she suspects that might not be enough for him, she makes this even clearer than she had before. “I’m not looking for anything serious,” she says. “Is that ok with you?” Girls and boys, this is when HE becomes responsible for his own problems. Right here. Because he says that’s fine, and then has the audacity later to blame her for his pain. Blames her for being 100% completely honest with him. Blames her for not feeling the way he wants. Which is understandable, because being in love makes you lose some of your control and rationality, but it’s sort of like blaming gravity for being such a downer.

I’m thinking of the latest Silversun Pickups album, particularly the first track, There’s No Secrets This Year. That’s the song at the top of the post here and that I’m quoting, in case you skipped it, and it’s too perfect not to include when talking about this movie. Just listen to the slide at at 4:44, which is when the song goes from an avowal of perfect forthrightness into an almost threatening declaration of non est mea culpa:

Better make sure
Better make sure you’re looking closely
before you fall into your swoon

YES, for reals. I love that moment so much, because the thing people don’t say about honesty is that truth can be as much a shield as anything else.  How often has someone said to you, baby, I just want you to be honest with me, and not thought about the consequences? Like, if I told you I might leave you, and then I did, you maybe have grounds to be sad, but you have forfeited your right to be angry. See how I did that? Non est mea culpa. It’s not a revelation of personal truth that makes one more vulnerable, in fact it’s exactly the opposite: it protects, and it’s what Summer does from day one.  The whole album continues in that vein, it’s this really delicious seduction somehow accomplished with a baseball bat. By the time you get to Catch and Release, the line, “Later on, don’t say I didn’t tell you so. Maybe I didn’t but you’re taking it,” is almost unnecessary: a really poetic, calculated admission of the abdication of responsibility.  And no one but Tom can be blamed for taking the lure.

Not that he remembers any of this. “You just do what you want, don’t you,” he accuses, in the final scene when he asks her why she danced with him when she was about to marry another man. To her credit, she doesn’t answer him the way I would have wanted to, with, “Yes, you moron. Why won’t you pay attention?” She doesn’t even roll her eyes, which is gracious of her, and probably due to the benefit of being in the position of security here, being the married one. It no longer matters whether he thinks of her as selfish, whether he thinks she cares about his feelings or not, because it is probably better for him in the long run to think of her as flawed. In fact, that was the problem all along, says the movie, that he made her too perfectly idiosyncratic, quirky but essentially harmless, with no hidden rocks he might crash upon, which seems extraordinarily unfair given that she told him that was exactly what might happen. We only ever see Summer as Tom wants her to be, not as she actually is.

Consider with your ear
We are still sincere

Not that Tom is a jerk, not really. Just deeply misguided, which the narrator points out right at the beginning: he works for a greeting card company and thought the end of The Graduate was about true love. All of which makes him patient, and adoring, and very cute, but also the most frustrating creature we have ever seen. I have to feel a little sorry for him, though. Summer lives in the real world, and Tom doesn’t, and therefore Tom’s life is always going to suck a little more, as he proves in a sad-sack I-quit outburst that manages to offend all of his coworkers except the stupid one, who claps. (Because he likes it when morons make a scene? Because he’s bored? Because he also thought the nice lady’s pictures of her cats would make terrible cards but was too cowardly to actually put that into words and say so? Not sure.) Whereas Summer doesn’t even have to feel guilty about any of this, because her own straightforwardness absolves her.

Who knows?
How this feeling grows?
Was it truly worth –
Truly worth the starting
Who knows?
Why the engine’s blown
Hope it’s truly worth –
Truly worth the parting

We never find out if that frankness makes her happy, though. She does end up getting married, and the thing she didn’t think would happen, that she would be sure of love as a truth for her in specific, not the vague dreamy bliss that Tom is after, seems to come true, so maybe. It’s a nice thought.

All in all, it’s quite a delicately rendered little movie, very pretty and luminously shot, and with the kind of story I can get behind. Both characters are played well, I think, and the director heightened the adulation of Deschanel’s character, which is exactly as it should be. She has a muse-like quality that works here. And Gordon-Leavitt’s Tom is puppy-earnest and violent at the same time, wonderfully childish. You have my 100% recommendation to see it, and I hope you tell me what you think if you do.

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