A famous story from the development of “When Harry Met Sally” is that Rob Reiner originally envisioned the film ending with Harry (Billy Crystal) and Sally (Meg Ryan) not ending up together. In his initial vision, the final scene would show the two characters seeing each other after many years, speaking briefly and walking away from each other. No passionate New Year’s speech. No happy ending. 

Reiner explained that he had been perpetually single for almost a decade at the time he wrote the screenplay with collaborator Nora Ephron. Harry, a character written to parallel himself, would end his story in the same way Reiner envisioned his own life going. Then while filming the movie, he met his future wife, photographer Michele Singer, and everything changed. Although Ephron believed the original ending felt “true,” she obliged Reiner. The pair would end up changing the last scene to reflect the state Singer had put Reiner in, and the rest is history. 

An interesting story—one that reflects how Reiner used film as a way to express human emotions. Reiner’s films had a flexibility that was unlike that of any other director. 

Rob Reiner and Michele Singer Reiner tragically died this weekend in their home in Hollywood. Following their deaths, their son Nick Reiner was charged with their murders, shedding an even more tragic light on the situation. It seemed as though almost everyone had something to say about the Reiners. Actors, artists, athletes and politicians took to social media and told stories of their kindness, talent and impact. Outside of their groundbreaking contributions to film and photography, their kindness, laughter and outspokenness was emphasized by people from many different walks of life. 

The Reiners, so many agreed, were not the type of couple who would sit down. They used their influence and voices to make a difference and had a multigenerational impact. 

I think “When Harry Met Sally” was the first R-rated film I ever watched. The film was already around 30 years old at the time. I remember going through my family’s book of DVDs, probably at the age of 8 or 9, and finding the eye-catching orange foliage featured on the disk. My parents, probably fondly remembering the comedic and romantic moments of the film, decided to put it on. Most of the adult humor flew over my young head, though my parents did frantically skip over the iconic Katz’s Deli scene, which they found to be too much for me. I remember liking the film, but I didn’t realize how much impact it and the man behind it would have on me.

As I studied film in college, the influence Reiner had on me grew immensely. While I worked on short films, papers and scripts, it was impossible not to credit Reiner’s work with inspiring me and modeling how to create great films with emotion at their centers. I’m not alone. Thousands of films have been influenced by his work, and I expect that number will only grow in the coming years. (I’m almost positive every young film student in New York has worked on a film seeking to emulate the aesthetics of “When Harry Met Sally.”)

Reiner’s films are the type that stick with you. Even after just one watch, it feels like every shot in “When Harry Met Sally,” “A Few Good Men,” “The Princess Bride” and “Stand By Me” (to name just a few of the big ones) is some iconic piece of pop culture—from walks in an autumnal and vibrant Central Park in “When Harry Met Sally” to Jack Nicholson’s famous “You can’t handle the truth!” outburst in “A Few Good Men,” and many more. 

At the America lunch table this week, a few members of the staff recalled moments from his films that have had an impact on us. The group was a mix of Boomers, Gen Xers and Gen Zers, yet we could all laugh and enjoy the conversation, as it became clear that Reiner’s films have that timeless quality that is so difficult to capture in film experience. Whether at home or in theaters, watched in clips on a cellphone or seen in full, it is impossible to overstate the importance that these films have taken on in film culture.

What makes them special—outside of the snappy dialogue, the jokes, the brilliant aesthetics and visuals and the music, of course—is the characters. In each of his films, Reiner’s characters stand out as real, flawed and endearing. Even the villains, like Jack Nicholson’s Col. Jessep or Wallace Shawn’s Vizzini in “The Princess Bride,” rope you in with quirks and eccentricities that make them feel like they walked out of the screen and became someone you ran into in the real world. And the protagonists of these films are even more vividly drawn. 

Despite the drastically different tones of many of his films, the emphasis on characters is a constant. Not every character is a great person, but they are all given the chance to grow, change and learn from their mistakes. 

In the early minutes of “When Harry Met Sally,” Harry Burns and Sally Albright reunite after a series of awkward encounters. Both are just ending serious relationships. A common thread of these encounters has been Harry’s insistence that men and women can’t be friends, as the romantic feelings and inherent physical attraction make it impossible. Yet during this encounter, the two bond over their struggles with love, and Sally asks Harry to get dinner with her “some time.” 

Harry coyly asks if they are actually becoming friends. Soft piano music cascades as Sally cautiously responds, “Well, yeah.” Perhaps not the most famous moment from the film, yet without question my favorite. Reiner’s direction leads the actors to experience a range of emotions in each of their conversations. The moment’s pacing and cuts leave you drawn in and hoping this time these two characters will finally find friendship and some happiness with each other. 

Reiner was an expert at moments like these: scenes with simple yet powerful settings that place emotion at the scene front and center. Many of his most famous films have comedic tones, yet Reiner knew the time and place to put a joke, making sure that the characters came before the laughs. 

Outside of directing and writing, Reiner was known as a talented comedian, breaking into the industry with his role as Michael “Meathead” Stivic in “All in the Family” as well as appearing in his own film “Spinal Tap” and playing a supporting role in “Sleepless in Seattle” (helmed by his “When Harry Met Sally” writer Nora Ephron). He also founded Castle Rock Entertainment, which produced such films and television shows as “The Shawshank Redemption,” “Before Sunrise” and “Seinfeld,” giving dozens of filmmakers the opportunity to tell their own stories.

Aside from his major contributions to the silver screen, Reiner’s life was also marked by a strong sense of character. He was an outspoken activist, using his wit and kindness to help those causes he believed in and standing up against what he didn’t see as right. Reiner advocated for the rights of children on many occasions, including supporting California Proposition 10, the California Children and Families Initiative which used taxes from tobacco products for early childhood development programs. 

In a world full of divisiveness, hate and anger, it’s easy to be frustrated and dismayed by the deaths of the Reiners—as well as some of the hateful responses to their deaths. It’s tragic to think about their son’s involvement in their deaths, who Reiner never gave up on having a relationship with—even collaborating on a semi-autobiographical film, 2015’s “Being Charlie.” However, I think the best way to honor the legacy they left is by continuing to create endearing art, to continue to stand up for causes one believes in and—perhaps most importantly—to continue to treat people with kindness. 

It is often said that the protagonists in Reiner’s films had pieces of his personality imbued in them, whether that be in their humor, relationships or emotions, but even clearer than that is that Rob Reiner’s irreplaceable personality has been imbued into the world of film forever.