Roxanne (1987)

Roxanne is the rare romantic comedy that’s genuinely funny and quietly wise, using Steve Martin’s quicksilver wit not as a gimmick but as a way to reveal a big, tender heart. Set in a mellow Pacific Northwest town that feels like a place you’d happily get stuck in for a summer, the film glides on warmth, wordplay, and a surprisingly sincere belief that intelligence and kindness are attractive. Martin makes C.D. Bales both heroic and vulnerable, and the romance has an old-fashioned sweep without ever getting syrupy. If you’re allergic to ‘80s sensibilities or a story built on a romantic deception, it may not be your perfect match—but if you want charm, laughter, and a love story that respects your emotions, this one’s easy to fall for.

Roxanne is trying to be a warm, modern Cyrano riff: a romantic comedy about insecurity, self-sabotage, and how words can be more seductive than cheekbones, with Steve Martin steering it toward sweetness instead of tragedy. If you’re allergic to 1980s sentimentality, be warned—it leans hard into earnest, feel-good emotions, and the plot’s deceptions can feel a bit too tidy and “movie-cute” rather than genuinely thorny. It also smooths down the bite of Cyrano, so anyone expecting sharper edge or more dramatic weight may find it lightweight and a little sappy. That said, Martin’s verbal wit and the small-town charm keep it watchable if you’re in the mood for a gentle, old-school rom-com rather than something subtle or modern.