Depending on where you look in popular culture, love is either a many-splendoured thing, torturously complicated or an agony beyond all belief.
It is not, despite all the romantic comedy storytelling out there that lauds the transcendent beauty and wonder of falling in love, seen to be a simple and clearcut thing but in 2008’s Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist, based on the book of the same name by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan (who cameo in the film in the diner scene), it actually is thought it is not, to be fair, without its complications.
But what is gorgeously straightforward is how much innocent, sweet attraction there is between Nick (Michael Cera) and Norah (Kat Dennings) almost instantly when they kiss out of necessity, well, imagined necessity anyway, when Norah is trying to prove to her catty frenemy, Triss (who, as played by Alexis Diziena, is rather awkwardly Nick’s ex-girlfriend who broken his heart) that she did indeed come to see a band with her new boyfriend.
She and Nick are, of course, complete strangers, although there is a link of sorts as Norah has been fishing Tris’s mix CDs, given to her by a mournful Nick who thinks he can win her back through music, out of the bin at the school both the teenagers attend, and LOVING them.
Norah’s close friend Caroline (Ari Gaynor), who causes her bestie more problems than she solves (but is mostly loved by her, anyway), teases her for LIKE liking Nick but the truth is, in the cold, hard light of day, Norah knows dating Nick would be a big mistake.
Tris and she may not really be friends but they’re often in close proximity, mix in the same social circles, and really, with a douche of an ex already in the mix (aspiring musician Tal, played by Jay Baruchel), who needs the extra complication?
Not Norah and so she initially dismisses any idea of being with Nick until they kiss and then everything changes; the sense of wonderment and surprise on their faces when they realise a kiss driven by social necessity is actually really, REALLY good is actually worth the price of admission of alone.
There is a great deal to like, if not love (it is, after all, the narrative flavour de jour) about Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist which manages to preserve the giddy simplicity of that life-changing kiss and keep it buoyant and happily alive through a very busy night indeed for the two protagonists, Caroline, Tris and Nick’s two gay band mates Thom (Aaron Yoo) and Dev (Rafi Gavron), all of whom are obsessed with finding out where cult band Where’s Fluffy are going to play their next highly-secretive gig.
This grand quest, which supersedes just about every other priority that night and is fuelled by cryptic clues left on grotto toilet doors and in the swirling digital miasma of social media, gives the film its narrative structure and zest as everyone races across New York City trying to discern where the band will perform.
Leaving aside the fantastically fanciful idea that parking spots are just waiting to be snapped outside each and every place you want to stop – Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist takes the idea of “Hollywood parking” and elevates to an impressively executed narrative contrivance that is the stuff of urban fantasies – the film is actually pretty grounded because it concentrates on what is happening between Nick and Norah amidst all the frantic busyness.
The instant, soulmate-type connection that seizes Nick and Norah is the beating heart of this film, and it is adorably sweet in its portrayal of how thrilling it is to find your missing half, but as noted it is not without its issues.
For a start both people have exes and they make their manipulative presence felt throughout the film in various ways.
They are almost cartoonish in their romantic villainy but that works perfectly well in a plot which is hyper-real, for all its emotional authenticity between the two lead characters, and which occupies the same rarefied space of later works by Levithan and Cohn such as their Lily & Dash series.
One other larger than life element which works a treat in Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist is the witty, zingy, expansively clever dialogue, a feature of all of Cohn and Levithan’s books which feature preternaturally talented teens with the ability to wax lyrical and with great knowledge about just about every thing.
It is part of the fantastical of all their books, but it is put to superlative work by screenwriter Lorene Scafaria who manages to take this feature of the authors’ writing and make it feel natural and unforced although in reality it’s not.
No one actually talks like that but you don’t care because it lends Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist an elevated sense of snappy whimsy and fun and gives the characters, especially the ones we are meant to like, an extra important likability.
For all the potholes and obstacles along the way, and there are many in a night of revelations, past emotional baggage and romantic missteps (don’t leave the van Nick! Oops, you did), Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist is all about how wonderful everything becomes when you meet that special someone.
It may not fix all your problems or burbling issues, and it sure as hell isn’t a magic wand to fix everything that ails you, but good lord, it is lovely and perfect thing and that notion emerges loud and clear and sigh-worthy romantic in a film which celebrates the simplicity of love when it’s the right thing.
In fact, the final scene in the movie encapsulates how perfect it all is and while the divulging of any details would be a major spoiler alert, not to mention spelling the ruination of the magicality of Nick and Norah’s coming together, it is the plot in one gorgeously rendered moment when love prevails and Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist proves once and for all, complications be demanded that it has its heart, and that of the two lead characters, very much in the right place.