There’s not a dull moment in When Harry Met Sally, Nora Ephron and Rob Reiner’s 1989 classic, which has become the apotheosis of the romcom. Every detail in the film is to be savoured: the golden leaves of Central Park. Billy Crystal’s apartment. Meg Ryan’s glasses. The sweaters! Oh, the sweaters!
It’s not exactly a groundbreaking choice, so much so that I’m almost embarrassed to call it my “feelgood movie”. Calling When Harry Met Sally a perfect comfort film is like calling pizza the perfect comfort food. It’s hardly discerning or original.