A friend, recently reeling from fresh heartache, asked me what she should watch to feel better. I suggested Éric Rohmer’s The Green Ray, though I doubted its ability to deliver uncomplicated comfort. The 1986 film is about a Parisian secretary, unceremoniously dumped, whose summer vacation plans have consequently fallen apart. So, she rides the coattails of various friends’ holidays, wandering from beach town to beach town, weepy and obstinate, never forsaking her openness to romance and destiny.
“It’s better to wait… than face reality,” laments the longing-stricken secretary. “Better than spoiling
