The death of the rom-com
As a new romantic era waltzes in, one defined by growing apprehension towards relationships, it’s looking like the formula has run out of steam.
The romantic comedy is the perfect choice for any occasion. It’s the recipe for a good girls’ night; provides a few hours of relief while riding out a long flight in economy; and is the default for a rainy day at home.
There’s no better way to subtly test a date. If they’re scoffing 20 minutes in, you know there’ll be no chance of flowers on Sunday morning and bleak odds for kissing in the rain. Scoffs are the last thing the rom-com hears as it draws its dying breath; modern viewers just don’t have the patience for them anymore. The magic is gone.
Classics like Roman Holiday (1953) and How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days (2003) rose to cult-like fame with the dependable script of: boy meets girl, boy and girl fall in love, break up, then reconcile and live happily ever after. As a new romantic era waltzes in, one defined by growing apprehension towards relationships, it’s looking like the formula has run out of steam.
Despite the blockbuster hit Anyone But You (2023), grossing $170 million worldwide, fans and filmmakers still deny that the genre has made a true resurgence. It’s essentially a one-hit wonder.
Director Will Gluck told The Hollywood Reporter that Anyone But You has slid into place as “the last romcom in the history of cinema and theatricality,” nursing the rom-com through its final death throes.
Maybe rom-coms were only good because they were a representation of their times, romanticizing a freedom and unknown that has shrunk with the invention of social media. Technology effectively killed the miscommunication trope that keeps films like 10 Things I Hate About You (1999) afloat. These days, any romantic gripes can be solved with a text.
The messy, “fixable” characters of rom-coms past are no longer seen as ideal partners worthy of pursuit. I don’t want to watch a film that doesn’t uphold my romantic sensibilities. Really, The Notebook’s (2004) Noah Calhoun (Ryan Gosling) should’ve gotten over it, and the friendship in 13 Going on 30 (2004) is too valuable to risk unreciprocated feelings.
There’s no divide between these statements and things I’ve heard time and time again in the dining hall: “If he wanted to, he would; you dodged a bullet; I wish he could just lock in; she ghosted me.” With those sentiments swirling around, the love stories of rom-coms past feel more unattainable by the minute. It’s never been easier to jump to conclusions and write someone off.
Even in the more realistic movies, like When Harry Met Sally (1989) and He’s Just Not that Into You (2009), where characters hold each other accountable for their actions, and miscommunication is typically tackled head-on, there’s no hiding behind the ambiguous labels that Gen Z loves to throw around. If you ask your parents, they’ll likely tell you that dating, being in a relationship and being exclusive all mean the same thing. Ask any Dalhousie student, and they’ll easily explain the nuances of each term.
This lack of conviction is also a byproduct of Gen Z’s own perspectives about love. While something might be in the air in Halifax, as observed by the Dal Purity Test, which found that 82 per cent of Dal students claim to have been in love, the overall results are bleak.
The Match.com Singles in America 2025 survey found that 69 per cent of Gen Z singles feel they aren’t ready for a relationship, while 75 per cent don’t feel the pressure to seek out romantic connections. I think this lies in our shared belief that a person must be “complete” before finding a partner.
“When you’re going on the dating market, you have to get your life together,” says Justin Garcia, an evolutionary biologist and sex expert. This sentiment is readily shared by my friends and me.
I hate to say it, but the writing is on the wall: the rom-com is dead. It’s disillusioning to believe they’ll ever return to their cult status of decades past.
The magic and nostalgia which kept them afloat are what make these movies so relevant today, and it’s also what pulled the genre’s plug. The icons will continue to thrive, embraced by each coming generation of romantics, but there will never again be an era where the studios pump them out endlessly; that well has run dry.
