And, one would assume, a sign of studio support. See, I thought we’d always have clever, goes-down-easy, starry-eyed movies like “Sleepless in Seattle,” “When Harry Met Sally…” and “You’ve Got Mail?” The swag the studio sent for the last named- a miniature mailbox that was also a music box - was really cool. Tasty and tart and sometimes laugh-out-loud funny.
Her collections of essays - “ I Remember Nothing,” “ I Feel Bad About My Neck,” “Crazy Salad,” to name a few - were always wonderful. It’s only in retrospect that my respect for her as a filmmaker has grown.
Then she had to go and die young - 71, leukemia - and I feel bad. Nora Ephron made me feel good about my neck.
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