Double feature: When “Frances Ha” came out, many reviewers hung their claims for its distinction on the fact that its heroine was a young woman, and yet its narrative had essentially nothing to do with that young woman’s love life. Presumably, this separated it from the pile of marriage-plot driven romantic comedies with women in the lead, a pile in which “Bridget Jones’s Diary” stands honorably near the top.
Double feature: These two films are essentially mirror images of each other. Their plots are the same – a worldly schemer attempts a romantic con on a wealthy but naive amateur biologist; a series of witty, swanky hijinks ensue. But in “A New Leaf” the “mark” is female, whereas “The Lady Eve” reverses the gender assignment –and that makes all the difference.
Double feature: There really aren’t that many movies featuring the Thanksgiving holiday, even tangentially. If you’re looking to branch out beyond “Planes, Trains & Automobiles,” “Home for the Holidays,” and “Hannah and Her Sisters,” consider a double feature of “The Birdcage” and “Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown.”
Double feature: The easy parallel between these two series is the quartet of shared archetypes leading up their respective casts. In both “The Golden Girls” and “Designing Women,” you’ll find: the sweet one (Rose, Charlene;) the brainy one (Dorothy, Julia;) the sexy one (Blanche, Suzanne;) and the quirky one (Sophia, Mary Jo.) Also, but less to the point, a semi-emasculated male drifting in and out of the frame (Stanley, Anthony.)
Double feature: “Cactus Flower” and “Christmas in Connecticut” are two films whose humor stems from an invented domestic life with imaginary family members. In the former, the made-up family is a compassion-inducing source of woe; in the latter, it is a beacon of bliss from which others take comfort.
Double feature: The surface similarities between “My Cousin Vinny” and “My Blue Heaven” are easy to spot: both feature Italian-American stereotypes unleashed upon prototypically white-bread milieus, for broad comic effect. Both entangle their protagonists – sartorially inclined toward flashy suits, tonsorially favoring glossy pompadours, romantically susceptible to compact spitfires – with local authorities, setting the stage for convoluted but ultimately triumphant hijinks.