Dear Nora Ephron…

We never met, but you had a deep impact on my life. I was first introduced to a pair of your films – SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE and WHEN HARRY MET SALLY – when I was a teenager. I found them at a time when I wasn’t overly handsome, athletic, or cool. However, after watching these films, I realized that I only needed to be two things to be happy: honest and hopeful.

I watched Harry and Sally take turns revealing truths about themselves to one-another. Harry might have been adamant that men and women could never be friends with one another, but his actions told a different story. They told me that men and women could be friends; that sometimes we can be better friends with members of the opposite sex than we are with members of the same. I saw the kinship that Harry and Sally built with their openness, and regarded it as something to emulate. Then I watched them almost screw things up by not listening to each other at the crucial moment, and realized it was a cautionary tale in what not to do.

Your story taught me what I needed to look for in a woman…what to say when I saw what I was looking for…and likewise what not to say (though I still forget that one every now and then).

You proved Harry wrong. You proved that not only could men and women be friends, but that they must be friends otherwise the relationship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.

After getting a handle on all of those lessons about honesty and friendship, the next film of yours I watched taught me the next lesson: Where love is concerned, to remain hopeful. With SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE, you actually created a bit of a monster in the way of a hapless romantic teenager. The concept that “The One” was out there somewhere led to a lot of nights spent staring at the sky wondering about when’s and where’s. It gave me lofty expectations about meet-cute’s, but left me too clueless to recognize those scenes even when I was in them. I had my heart stomped on a few times, but always managed to put it back into place…ready for “the one who was out there somewhere”.

It feels strange to be saying all of this…because guys don’t typically talk like this (certainly not in front of whatever meagre public readership they may have). But I feel that I must, for as much as I was shaped by cool films, and heavy films, I was shaped by romantic films like yours. Without your stories, I would never have become the man I am, and found myself with the blessings my life has given me. Your stories believed in the power to find connection, in the power to express one’s self, and in the importance of following the things that provide great passion.

More than once in life, I have found myself feeling wickedly down…but in these moments, the starry-eyed dreamer your stories turned me into took over. That twerp pulled me back together, and inevitably pointed me towards something better.

What I’m saying is that as much as I am who I am because of people like John Lennon, Annie Liebovitz, Claude Monet, Steven Spielberg, Muhammed Ali, and J.M. Barry, I am who I am because of you. Your stories brought me out of myself. They taught me what I needed to guard, and what I needed to let loose. Those lessons have taught me well, and led me to someone who believes in them too. I’m happy to say that she completes me in all the ways that lovesick teenager hoped for.

I never had any opportunity to say anything like this to you directly, but I’m saying it now, and hopefully that counts for something. I sit here and can say very truthfully that I am very much honest, hopeful, and happy…and for that I have you to thank.

Goodnight and Godspeed,

Ryan McNeil

6 Replies to “Dear Nora Ephron…”

  1. Beautiful enough to be read at her funeral. You sir have my unending gratitude. I went looking through the blog roll on the Lamb, purposely to see if anyone so much as tipped their hat to the fine lady. You sir were one of only two. How disappointing! IN a field dominated by men Nora was a stand out, that alone deserves more respect. Shame on those that call themselves movie lovers and forgot her so completely!

  2. Beautiful words. I was truly shocked by her passing. Her films – even though I’ve seen so few of them – had something in them that other romantic comedies didn’t have.

    1. Look into her writing – she did a lot of it over the years (books, magazines, etc). She had such a clear voice that could prove quite valuable as you continue to establish your own.

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