There’s a particular history lesson from school that has stuck in my mind. Imagine a 1930s Germany, still reeling from its losses during the first World War. Then imagine a political party, led by a radical politician that finally breaks through the family radio. He promises redemption for your failing country, massive economic and political gains. Finally, someone to enact real change, someone “finally able to finally do something active and bold to rehabilitate [your] shabby life.” All he needs is your vote. 

It never feels like Marty is in true danger. There is always the impression that he’ll work his way out of the corner he is backed into, and in the end, that’s exactly what happens. The emotional beats of the story fall short without any real tension. Marty makes one stupid, egotistical decision after another, realizes he’s in a bad situation, then gets up and gets himself out of it. Over and over again. 

From time to time, someone decides to resurrect the same debate about 500 Days of Summer (2009): was Summer the villain, or was Tom simply delusional? The response to that question rarely changes. Summer is perceived as a cold, evasive witch who purposely misleads poor Tom, while Tom is defended as a romantic, perhaps naive, but well-intentioned good guy. The framing of that narrative is quite unsurprising, almost expected, because it provides the natural urge to assign fault cleanly; a way to make sense of a dramatic, romantic split by assigning one person the role of the wrongdoer and the other the role of the one wronged.