Do you remember the incredible cinematic year of 1997? It was the year of Anaconda, L.A. Confidential, Lost Highway, One Fine Day, Titanic… the list goes on and on. It was the kind of year that still lives in legend, even if the Oscar for Best Picture went to The English Patient. Were you revelling in those celluloid gems in 1997? Or were you more like the eighteen-year-old me, stricken by a hormone-fuelled fever known as Addiction To Meg?When I was in my teens, all I wanted to do was go to the theatre and stare at the breathtaking cuteness of Meg Ryan for two hours. On that level, I was sure Addicted To Love would deliver (although there was, of course, going to be the inevitable Michelle Pfeiffer trade-off). It had been a conflict of emotions, but thanks to One Fine Day Michelle was finally winning her tug of war with Meg for status as my favourite actress. After Addicted to Love all bets were off.It is fitting that some of my finest, and most vivid, memories of Addicted to Love involve some of the girls in my life. I’ve often found that my affection for Meg Ryan will inevitably be brought up during a relationship and Addicted to Love is always the film I show by way of introduction and explanation. Addicted to Love is part of my DNA and has come to play a major part in my life, it’s almost like pulling out an old family scrapbook to show someone where I came from.Watching Addicted To Love today Meg Ryan’s Maggie is still as captivating and alluring as ever. Perhaps even more so in knowing that the stardom I thought would be eternal would soon start to fade. A victim of hypocrisy? I think so. I also think Meg and I belonged in another era…forty or fifty years previous.Nowadays when I’m asked who my favourite actress is, Michelle Pfeiffer is the answer. Granted there are a lot of questions to which Michelle Pfeiffer is the answer, but I do miss the all consuming, intoxicating passion I felt for Meg Ryan.Every teenager needs at least one magical crush to nurture them through those awkward years, when the heart speaks above all other voices in the body. Now every time I put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) I revert right back into that juvenile state of infatuation. Held rapt by Ryan’s radiance, fixated on Pfeiffer’s physiognomy. Cast adrift once again on an sea of pure cinematic joy.
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