Introduction: Love Is a Battlefield—With Binoculars
There’s romantic comedy, and then there’s Addicted to Love, a film that dares to ask, “What if two incredibly unlikable people committed felonies together and called it foreplay?” Directed by Griffin Dunne and starring Meg Ryan and Matthew Broderick, this 1997 stalker-screwball mess tries to pass off voyeurism and emotional terrorism as quirky romance. It’s like Rear Window without the suspense, charm, or moral compass.
Plot: A Breakup Revenge Fantasy… Kind Of
Broderick plays Sam, a small-town astronomer whose fiancée (Kelly Preston) dumps him and moves to New York City to shack up with a suave Frenchman. Instead of crying into a pint of ice cream like a normal person, Sam follows her to the city, sets up a surveillance nest in an abandoned building across the street, and starts spying on her. Healthy!
Enter Meg Ryan’s Maggie, a leather-clad, chain-smoking motorcyclist whose ex is the very same Frenchman. Her plan? Destroy his life. Sam’s plan? Win his ex back by watching her 24/7 like a lovesick NSA contractor. Together, they become a team of emotionally unhinged creeps with a penchant for wiretaps and psychological warfare.
Nothing says “true love” like a partnership founded on rage and break-ins.
Characters: Love in the Time of Restraining Orders
Sam is supposed to be the sweet one—the sensitive, nerdy astronomer with a telescope and a heart of gold. But let’s be honest: he’s a textbook Nice Guy™ who thinks watching someone for weeks from a hidden room is just part of the healing process.
Maggie, meanwhile, is a hurricane of resentment, eyeliner, and bad ideas. She’s not so much a romantic lead as a vengeful cartoon character with abandonment issues. Meg Ryan does her best to play “edgy,” but it’s like watching a golden retriever try to play a junkyard dog.
By the time these two inevitably fall for each other, it feels less like a triumph of love and more like a cry for help.
Tone: Romantic Comedy Meets Felony B&E
The film doesn’t know if it wants to be a black comedy, a love story, or a guide to stalking your ex. So it tries to be all three—and fails at all of them. There’s slapstick. There’s emotional manipulation. There’s even a pigeon-based revenge plot that would make Wile E. Coyote proud.
You’re supposed to laugh, but it mostly feels like watching two people have a very public nervous breakdown.
Missed Opportunities: Stalk Much?
This could’ve been a biting satire on obsessive love or a darkly funny cautionary tale about post-breakup madness. Instead, it plays it all as lighthearted fun. The filmmakers expect you to root for these characters. But rooting for Sam and Maggie is like rooting for a gas leak—you just hope no one lights a match.
And poor Kelly Preston is stuck playing the object of affection, a role that requires her to smile a lot and remain blissfully unaware that two lunatics are squatting across the street watching her life unravel like a soap opera.
Final Thoughts: Binoculars and Bad Ideas
Addicted to Love is less a romantic comedy and more a horror movie for anyone who’s ever dated someone who didn’t take the hint. It’s not just tone-deaf—it’s outright creepy. If the genders were flipped or this came out post-2005, it’d be repackaged as psychological thriller.
Instead, it’s played for laughs—and nobody’s laughing. Except maybe the pigeon.
Final Verdict: 1 out of 5 hidden cameras. Leave the telescope, take the therapy.
