A Nancy Meyers Movie Is The Perfect Way To Feel At Home

Moving is not fun. This is not a revelation to you, I’m sure, but it has to be said. A someone who recently moved apartments (in New York City, no less), I have come to understand the horrors of adjusting to a new home on a very personal level. In the process of our move, on one of our last nights in the old apartment, my roommate brought home an It’s Complicated DVD (I know. Our WiFi was out). As it was the sole Nancy Meyers flick I had never seen, I jumped on the opportunity to watch it in our largely empty apartment, bare of everything but our couch awaiting the assistance of movers the following day. While I’d begun the day feeling displaced and anxious, it only took about fifteen minutes of the film for me to suddenly find myself at ease, cozy again in the stripped-down room I’d called home the last two years. Sure, I’d never be able to afford the glamorous Santa Barbara abode undergoing expansion that Meryl Streep calls home in It’s Complicated, but something about the way everyone comes together in varying spaces throughout the film consistently makes things feel homey.

After finishing it (and moving into our new place, which, I can now confirm is very homey), it dawned on me that all of Meyers’ films boast this quality. Yes, we’ve discussed the unattainably perfect aesthetics of the homes in her films on multiple occasions, and they certainly are nice to look at, but that’s not what I’m talking about here. The magic of Meyers exists in her understanding of how comfortable familiarity and community makes us – and the way the right song can make everything a little bit better (seriously. Her soundtracks are criminally underrated).

With Meyers movies, there’s a joy in specificity, something we can all relate to in the way photos are hung, or fridges are stocked, or tables are set. It’s not just in the environmental factors, either – the way the characters interact with one another, the commonality of it all, no matter what the setting is – that’s what makes it feel so comfortable. The laughter and brutal honesty of friendships, the awkwardness and electric chemistry of romance, the predictable dysfunctional nature of family – it’s all part of the package in these stories. These are all things we have personal experiences of, and Meyers manages to capture them in a genuinely accessible way every time – no matter how fancy someone’s kitchen is.

Whether you’re in the mood for The Intern, What Women Want, or The Holiday, you’re bound to find comfort in whichever choice you make. Even The Parent Trap and Something’s Gotta Give offer a warm, indulgent sense of familiarity that ensure that no matter where you decide to watch – plane, train, automobile, hotel room, or brand new accommodations – you’re guaranteed to feel right at home.