They Can't Take That Away From Me

I was sad to hear of Nora Ephron's death on Tuesday. I'm a guy with low-brow movie tastes, but I liked the "Nora Ephron film"--yes, her movies were as distinctive as Martin Scorsese's or John Ford's.

Her stories tapped into the universal quest for happiness but were never heavily philosophical. We laughed at the stumblings of her characters because of our rueful self identification with them.

Nora Ephron's feminism wasn't preachy, which greatly aided her popularity:

A rare author and screenwriter whose works appealed to highbrow readers and mainstream moviegoers, Ephron wrote fiction that was distinguished by characters who seemed simultaneously normal and extraordinary. Like many people, they wrestled with commitment, principles and fame, but often exhibited keen, comic insights about their predicaments.

Her protagonists, who included the chef Julia Child and the whistle-blower Karen Silkwood, were often women and typically were just as capable as the men around them, if not more so.

In one of Nora Ephron's most popular movies, Sleepless in Seattle, the soundtrack of Golden Oldies is integral to the atmosphere of romantic yearning. She used artistic tradition to evoke an audience response that  helped her make great art herself. R.I.P.

On my six-day Hawaiian vacation I found myself sitting in the pew of the church where we got married over 30 years ago, listening to amateur artists sing Gershwin. Nora Ephron would have approved.