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Plenty of accomplished actresses have starred in rom-coms. Typically, if they want to win an Oscar, they need to shift for weightier characters. The late Diane Keaton, who died unexpectedly, charted a different course and executed it with effortless grace. Her initial breakout part was in the classic The Godfather, as dramatic an film classic as ever created. But that same year, she returned to the role of the character Linda, the focus of an awkward lead’s admiration, in a cinematic take of the theatrical production Play It Again, Sam. She regularly juggled intense dramas with funny love stories during the 1970s, and the comedies that secured her the Oscar for outstanding actress, altering the genre for good.

The Academy Award Part

That Oscar was for the film Annie Hall, co-written and directed by Allen, with Keaton in the lead role, part of the film’s broken romance. Allen and Keaton dated previously before making the film, and continued as pals for the rest of her life; during conversations, Keaton described Annie as a perfect image of herself, from Allen’s perspective. It would be easy, then, to assume Keaton’s performance meant being herself. Yet her breadth in Keaton’s work, contrasting her dramatic part and her comedic collaborations and throughout that very movie, to discount her skill with rom-coms as simply turning on the charm – though she was, of course, incredibly appealing.

A Transition in Style

The film famously functioned as Allen’s shift between slapstick-oriented movies and a more naturalistic style. As such, it has plenty of gags, fantasy sequences, and a freewheeling patchwork of a love story recollection alongside sharp observations into a doomed romantic relationship. In a similar vein, Diane, presides over a transition in Hollywood love stories, embodying neither the fast-talking screwball type or the glamorous airhead common in the fifties. Instead, she fuses and merges traits from both to invent a novel style that still reads as oddly contemporary, halting her assertiveness with nervous pauses.

Observe, for instance the sequence with the couple initially hit it off after a tennis game, awkwardly exchanging proposals for a car trip (even though only one of them has a car). The exchange is rapid, but veers erratically, with Keaton navigating her own discomfort before ending up stuck of her whimsical line, a words that embody her quirky unease. The film manifests that tone in the following sequence, as she makes blasé small talk while operating the car carelessly through New York roads. Subsequently, she centers herself performing the song in a club venue.

Depth and Autonomy

This is not evidence of the character’s unpredictability. During the entire story, there’s a dimensionality to her playful craziness – her hippie-hangover willingness to experiment with substances, her anxiety about sea creatures and insects, her unwillingness to be shaped by Alvy’s efforts to shape her into someone more superficially serious (in his view, that signifies preoccupied with mortality). Initially, the character may look like an odd character to receive acclaim; she is the love interest in a film told from a male perspective, and the main pair’s journey fails to result in sufficient transformation to make it work. However, she transforms, in ways both observable and unknowable. She simply fails to turn into a better match for the male lead. Many subsequent love stories took the obvious elements – anxious quirks, odd clothing – not fully copying her final autonomy.

Enduring Impact and Mature Parts

Maybe Keaton was wary of that pattern. After her working relationship with Allen concluded, she took a break from rom-coms; Baby Boom is really her only one from the complete 1980s period. But during her absence, the film Annie Hall, the role possibly more than the free-form film, became a model for the category. Meg Ryan, for example, credits much of her love story success to Keaton’s skill to portray intelligence and flightiness together. This made Keaton seem like a timeless love story icon while she was in fact portraying more wives (if contentedly, as in that family comedy, or more strained, as in The First Wives Club) and/or moms (see the holiday film The Family Stone or that mother-daughter story) than unattached women finding romance. Even in her reunion with the director, they’re a seasoned spouses drawn nearer by funny detective work – and she fits the character smoothly, wonderfully.

But Keaton did have a further love story triumph in the year 2003 with the film Something’s Gotta Give, as a dramatist in love with a younger-dating cad (the star Jack Nicholson, naturally). The result? Her final Oscar nomination, and a complete niche of love stories where older women (often portrayed by famous faces, but still!) reclaim their love lives. Part of the reason her loss is so startling is that Diane continued creating those movies as recently as last year, a constant multiplex presence. Now audiences will be pivoting from assuming her availability to grasping the significant effect she was on the romantic comedy as we know it. If it’s harder to think of contemporary counterparts of those earlier stars who similarly follow in Keaton’s footsteps, the reason may be it’s rare for a performer of her caliber to commit herself to a genre that’s mostly been streaming fodder for a recent period.

An Exceptional Impact

Ponder: there are ten active actresses who have been nominated multiple times. It’s unusual for a single part to begin in a rom-com, especially not several, as was the example of Keaton. {Because her