As civilisation descends into chaos, I’m finding myself spending most of my spare time here, locked down with Meg and Michelle. This is my escape, a trip back in time. I don’t want to make light of the sad situation we’re in, but I could do this every day, watch a film, scribble my thoughts, post a few comments.Watching scenes from Addicted to Love I find myself lost in 1997, when a new Meg Ryan rom-com was still an event. (and Meg and Michelle Pfeiffer, were still hot stars). I try to lock eyes with Maggie but it’s impossible. She is looking just past the camera, like she knows I’m there but has weightier things on her mind.At her peak, Ryan was the default romantic lead for a picture like this. One of the major pleasures of Addicted to Love is watching her luxuriate in her own gorgeousity. In every outfit from Maggie’s insane-yet-fabulous wardrobe, she threatens to reach pure capsaicin on the Scoville scale. This is as hot as Meg got!And then there’s Michelle, with her supernova smile and porcelaneous looks. Did Pfeiffer ever give a weak or lacklustre performance? She’s especially radiant in One Fine Day. I mean what man wouldn’t want to be in Clooney’s shoes, when he sweeps her off her feet, and splashes through the puddles of Central Park?Throw Michelle into a certain Meg Ryan romantic comedy, and suddenly you’ve got the picture above. A film fantasy. A gift from the movie gods. I’m happy I can still hold onto my dreams. Even as the outside world goes dark. Very, very dark.