I first introduced my husband to one of my all-time favorite films one hot August night in Belize. An unlikely introduction, but we were staying in a hotel whose only air-conditioned area was the media room. I was on what felt like my 17th consecutive day of being sick after eating some unfamiliar food. We shut ourselves in and, for the next couple of hours, were completely absorbed by the story of when Harry met Sally. He loved the line about the worst kind of woman being the high-maintenance one who thinks she's low-maintenance—I still don't hear the end of that—while I was struck by the charming, frustrating, and familiar world its screenwriter, Nora Ephron, had created. Ephron died on Tuesday of pneumonia, a complication of the leukemia she had lived with for the past six years.
When Harry Met Sally, her best-known film, explored topics in relationships that had never previously been brought together in one story. Most memorably, perhaps, was Sally's, ahem, climactic acting ...1