Up Close & Personal (1996)

Up Close & Personal is the kind of glossy, grown-up romantic drama that knows its greatest special effect is movie-star magnetism—and it has it in abundance, with Michelle Pfeiffer and Robert Redford turning ambition and attraction into something you can practically feel in the air. Jon Avnet frames the world of television news as both a proving ground and a pressure cooker, giving the story a brisk, behind-the-scenes energy even when it’s simply watching two people learn each other’s rhythms. What makes it linger is how the film treats mentorship and love as intertwined forces: inspiring, destabilizing, and sometimes bruisingly honest about the cost of wanting more. It’s not a hard-edged journalism movie and it can be a bit old-school in its melodrama, but if you’re on the fence and you crave chemistry, heart, and a sweeping ’90s romantic vibe, this one earns its emotional pull.

Up Close & Personal wants to be an inspiring, fact-tinged look at a woman clawing her way into serious TV journalism, with a mentor romance folded in for emotional punch. The problem is it leans so hard into glossy, made-for-melodrama beats that the newsroom world often feels like a backdrop, and the relationship can play more like a screenplay requirement than something that naturally sparks. If you’re hoping for a sharp, authentic journalism story or a genuinely crackling romance, this may feel sentimental, contrived, and oddly superficial for the subject matter. Still, Pfeiffer’s determination is watchable, Redford brings old-pro gravitas, and if you’re in the mood for a polished ’90s career-and-love tearjerker rather than a hard-edged drama, it can do the job.