To Be Loved That Way

I'm watching Four Weddings and a Funeral for what must be the seventh or eighth time and I'm still in love with it, for so many reasons.

1. Hugh Grant in the early 90's was the ultimate leading man.  What was there not to like?  Cute British guy, slightly bumbling like we all (American girls) imagined cute British boys to be.  And that accent!  This was before the "incident" of course.
2. Romance, romance, romance.
3. With English accents!
4. Even though I can't stand her now (she's the worst part of the movie for me), Andie McDowell was one of my first role models for the whole American girl living abroad idea.
5. I love the idea of such a disparate but fun group of friends.  
6. Gorgeous wedding locations - village churches, Scottish castles... loved them all.
7. Weddings.  Like so many other girls, I still wish it would happen for me.
8. It's actually been awhile since I last watched it and doing it for the first time while living in Ireland gives it a whole other resonance.  There's actually a sense of familiarity now for the landscapes, the city locations, the characterizations.  And, yes, the accents!  Less exotic, but fun in a different way.
9. Great soundtrack.  I especially like Love Is All Around by Wet Wet Wet.  Mostly because of it's fantastic cover and co-starring role in another of my favorite movies, Love Actually.  Again with the Hugh Grant!
10. Finally, what for me is one of the most poignant scenes of any movie I've seen.  Matthew's reading of W.H. Auden's poem, Funeral Blues, at Gareth's funeral.  Isn't that what we all want, to be loved like that?

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.