Engage in holiday self-care with some movies that put a stake in the heart of romance.

Even if you’re in a content, stable relationship, Valentine’s Day can often feel like a bit of a joyless slog. Like a lot of holidays in the internet era, it’s become less a day of celebration, and more another excuse to engage in conspicuous consumption and endless games of one-upmanship. Who got the biggest flower arrangement at the office? Who cares?

Whether single or not, you may understandably feel as if all the fun and romantic flair has been squeezed out of the day. In keeping with that, consider this short list of bleakly funny, sad, or just plain horrifying cinematic takes on romance to get you in the anti-spirit.

Closer (2004, dir. Mike Nichols): Mike Nichols, known mostly in the second half of his career for directing light, witty comedies like Working Girl and The Birdcage, seemed an odd choice to adapt Patrick Marbury’s dark and convoluted drama about a toxic, manipulative love quadrangle. And yet, he directed the heck out of it, even if at times the dialogue is a little too arch, and the characters a little too unlikable to care about.

Nevertheless, Natalie Portman brings some much needed fragility to her performance, while, conversely, the usually sunny Julia Roberts adds an effectively icy edge to hers. Jude Law and Clive Owen’s characters, meanwhile, are in a race to the bottom as to which one is the most selfish, emotionally abusive creep out of the two. (For rent on Amazon Prime)

Ruby Sparks (2012, dir. Zoe Kazan): The concept of the manic pixie dream girl is turned on its (her?) head in this deceptively funny movie about a pretentious ass of a writer (Paul Dano) whose fictitious “perfect woman” creation steps out of the pages and into real life in the form of the titular Ruby Sparks (played by Zoe Kazan, who wrote the script).

It seems like the ideal relationship (for him, at least), until Ruby, as she becomes more real, also develops a sense of independence and a desire for freedom. Dano’s transition from whiny dork to sinister misogynist is all too plausible, and though the film ends on somewhat of a hopeful note, it’s that aspect of his performance that sticks with you. (For rent on Amazon Prime)

Fear (1996, dir. James Foley): If your tastes run more towards delicious trash, then try one of a glut of obsessed stalker movies in the 90s, but the only one that stars would-be 9/11 hero Mark Wahlberg. He plays a handsome bad boy who wins the heart of nice girl Reese Witherspoon, only to have their teenage infatuation interfered with by Witherspoon’s protective father (William Petersen), who doesn’t trust a kid who can only offer a bad haircut and a shit-eating grin.

And you know what? HE’S RIGHT. A fairly standard “if I can’t have you, nobody can” psychological thriller is made truly memorable by an outrageously violent home invasion climax, though sadly you might want to check doesthedogdie.com before watching. (Streaming on Tubi)

Phantom Thread (2017, dir. Paul Thomas Anderson): Bringing it back to the classy side is Paul Thomas Anderson’s sumptuous, dryly funny film about a high fashion dress designer (Daniel Day-Lewis) who falls in love (if you want to call it that) with a humble hotel waitress (Vicky Krieps).

What feels like it should be an old-fashioned “the rich prince takes the beautiful scullery maid away to his castle” romance quickly becomes something rather more bizarre, as Day-Lewis, haunted by the memory of his late mother, confuses “love” with “dependence,” and Krieps ensures that that line grows ever more blurry. Come for the gorgeous production design, stay for the jaw-dropping ending. (Streaming on Netflix)

Sid and Nancy (1986, dir. Alex Cox): Mark my words: the most annoying couple you know, that tumultuous on-again/off-again couple everyone around them wishes would just break up for good already, has compared themselves to either Joker and Harley Quinn, or Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungeon.

The doomed real-life couple, who died within months of each other between 1978 and 1979, get the sort-of-biopic treatment from Alex Cox, introducing the world to Gary Oldman, who disappears into his performance as Sid, as does Chloe Webb as Nancy, a couple of deeply fucked up kids (even before getting into heroin) who had no business ever being together. They should be nowhere near #relationshipgoals, though the movie itself perfectly captures the bleak but enticing grittiness of late 70s New York City. If you have to fall apart with the love of your life, what better place to do it? (Streaming on Plex)

HONORABLE MENTION:

Serendipity (2001, dir. Peter Chesholm): “But Gena,” you might be thinking. “Isn’t Serendipity an actual romantic movie?” Oh, it absolutely is, I’m not arguing that. But it’s a romantic movie so ludicrous in premise and cynical in execution that it belongs on this list. An unlikable sourpuss (John Cusack) and an irritating flake (Kate Beckinsale) meet-cute over a pair of gloves, then spend the next ninety minutes boring everyone around them with their belief that they’re fated to be together.

It’s an idea that’s harmless on its own, except for the fact that both characters are already in relationships with other people, characters who are drawn so thinly that the screenwriter didn’t bother to give them any qualities reasonably worth breaking up over. While the movie works great as an advertisement for visiting New York City at Christmas, the bullshit “the heart wants what it wants” message it pushes will have you reaching for the Pepto. (Streaming on Max)