For Consenting Adolescents

One of the major genres of American film-making has commonly been labeled: “Adult love story.” There is something odd about the term: is there such a thing as a children’s love story? Well, I suppose there is: child meets dog (horse, hamster, parakeet . . . ), child loses dog, child wins dog. The more pertinent question, then, is why are there so few truly adult love stories in the American cinema? In the past, whether things ended happily or tearfully the goo, the schmaltz, the treacle