You’ve got to understand that this is no ethereal crush. My love for dear ol’ Chris dates waaaay back to the ancient times of the late 1990s, when the music video for Yellow was all over MTV. I was a gangly, frizzy-haired sixth-grader, and he was a poetic, articulate, blue-eyed Brit. Deep in my heart, I knew that the stars were shining for me, as he proclaimed, and there was nothing more I wanted than to soothe his aching heart by lying him down right there on that beach and effing him into submission. Yes, I was a very precocious sixth-grader.

Shortly thereafter, Chris and Coldplay rocketed to superstardom. Over the past nine years, the band has released four studio albums, in conjunction with breathtaking music video release after breathtaking music video release (hello? The Scientist?).  All over the world, people were falling in love with Chris. Men, women, parents, grandparents, teachers–it was Coldplay mania!

I was okay with the world adoring Chris (we had that special “Yellow” connection, after all. Sara + Chris, 2gether 4ever.) – even after that infamous “You know how I know you’re gay?” comment from The 40-Year-Old-Virgin – but I had my heart broken in 2003, when Chris married uber-babe actress Gwyneth Paltrow. I’ve since recovered from my heartache, realizing that just because he’s married doesn’t make Chris any less of a hottie. While he and I may not be riding off into the sunset alone, I’ve begun to realize a couple of reasons why he is the most effable rock star in the world–ones that have nothing to do with how good he looks in a t-shirt.

For one thing, Chris has been lauded for his work with Oxfam International, a network of organizations seeking to end poverty and injustice. He has been widely photographed with the network’s “Make Trade Fair” logo on his hand. He was in Shaun of the Dead and has collaborated with Kanye West and Jay-Z. This week in particular has been a banner week for Mr. Martin – an interview on 60 Minutes and awards at the Grammys…and if I had my way, a nice Valentine’s Day eff. Mmm.

Keep your hands off of him, Paltrow. He’s mine.

I like to think of the term in a broader sense, disregarding the time in which it was produced and whether or not it won any awards or are on any ‘best-of’ lists. No, a classic to me is something that has or will stand the test of time because of its brilliance, or its entertainment value, or its strong characterization, etc. And a movie like Shaun of the Dead has all of these things and more.

At first, it may seem like a silly zombie movie, but Shaun of the Dead, in all of its silliness, may actually be one of the most perfect movies ever made.

Shaun is a lazy television salesman, too caught up in the routine of his life to notice that he’s on the verge of losing his girlfriend, he’s neglecting his family, and, oh yeah, there is a horrible zombie outbreak. Fighting off the zombies in his favorite pub, The Winchester, Shaun has to come to terms with his own mortality and the loss of the people that he loves. At its heart, Shaun of the Dead is a movie about accepting one’s adulthood, and all the varied and often scary implications of that.

Going back to the idea of ‘classic’, if we apply the idea of the ‘classic’ movie or literary structure to the film, it has very strongly delineated acts and the main character, Shaun, goes through an inner emotional journey that reflects and is affected by his greater outer journey. This is some Chekov-level sh*t.

More than that, though, the movie is thoroughly and in every single scene absolutely entertaining. It incorporates aspects of different genres of film from the zombie movie, obviously, to romantic comedy (it’s even billed as a ‘zom rom com’), to a family drama, to a buddy film.

The director, Edgar Wright, and Simon Pegg, who plays Shaun and helped to write the script, is so good at setting up jokes and paying off what seems like throwaway plot points. In fact, it’s something that Wright and Pegg pull off to great effect in their second movie together, Hot Fuzz, as well.

What it comes down to, though, is that I can watch Shaun of the Dead over and over and still laugh at all the right parts, still gasp at all the right parts, and still tear up when I’m supposed to, even though I know how the movie ends and could probably quote it beginning to end if I had to. I can’t think of a single thing I would change in this movie and I can’t really say that about many other movies, even my very favorites. I will stand by my assertion that this is an absolutely perfect film and should be considered as such even outside the somewhat limiting horror genre. Especially because it subverts all of the familiar constructs of that genre so beautifully. It’s brilliant, entertaining, hilarious, shocking, and even sweet. It’s a classic.