I was mentally violated at MarkJ’s last night.
Of course, camp and all as it is, we should have watched The Long Kiss Goodnight. Geena Davis – despite that Mount Rushmore quality chin – maybe even BECAUSE OF that monumental mandible – was totally hot before she married Renny Harlin and became a sex slave instead of an international superstar. I’ve always loved that iconic scene where Geena’s strapped to the mill-wheel and, instead of just drowning her, the baddies dunk her a few times for laughs and to see what she looks like in a wet t-shirt, giving her the opportunity to escape her bonds and seize upon a submachine gun discarded on the bottom of the mill pond and blast their motherfucking heads off. God, get a load of the language out of me! It MUST be true: movies breed violence.
MarkJ had prepared no movie shortlist, so I picked out some films whose titles sounded optimistic, but they were lesbian flicks and MarkJ gave me a hard time and implied I was a lesbian. I have to say, he had a disproportionately high number of lesbian flicks in his collection, so I’m not sure what that says about MarkJ except maybe HE’S a lesbian so there.
Generally, a good romcom will do the trick for me – but that one, innocuous, often misapplied, little word ‘good’ disqualifies most contenders.
MarkJ suggested ‘He’s Just Not That Into You’, hastily qualifying this by saying he hadn’t watched it himself yet. The movie is based on the book of the same title, a self-help book whose premise can be condensed into one multiple choice question:
So, you meet a guy, and he says he’ll call, but he DOESN’T and then, when you ring HIM, you get his voicemail, so you drop by his house because you were just passing by ANYWAY, and he sets his dogs on you, and later the police ARREST you because of the restraining order – but dammit, how were you to know? – so does he:
a) like you
b) not like you
c) not sure
Personally, I learned that lesson at the age of sixteen (I have the teeth marks to prove it) and have no idea how they made a whole book out of the subject. But if you answered a) or c) you might want to pick up a copy.
Anyhoo, the movie is about a group of couples and one slapper, all of whom either break up and then get back together, or are together and then break up. It was somewhat lacking in dramatic tension although regrettably not cliches. Also, you could see the plot twists coming like giant, inflatable pretzels being towed behind a light aircraft.
The characters were pretty much uniformly one-dimensional and unlikeable, apart from Jennifer Aniston who couldn’t pull off unlikeable if she acted like Gwyneth Paltrow while torturing a puppy.
There’s Gigi, who does not appear to have any pride, which is just as well because she would routinely shove it up her arse. Gigi stalks guys, she calls them, leaving multiple insane voice messages, she quizzes men on what they mean by ‘Nice to meet ya’, and she appears to have a fetish for obscenely hirsute blokes. (Note: this character is supposed to be a twenty something everywoman, rather than a thirteen year old with a crush on Robbie Williams.)
Gigi gives a tremulous, impassioned speech about how her actions may be so cringeworthy that I could only watch her through my fingers and MarkJ pulled his t-shirt over his face, but that at least she’s daring her heart and emotionally open or . . . something. SHE IS TRYING TO MAKE A VIRTUE OUT OF STUPIDITY! It’s like trying to make a virtue out of . . . of . . . crack cocaine addiction, or the Atkins diet.
What else? Scarlett Johansson stalks a married man, and then gets all pouty when he bundles her into a cupboard half-naked when his wife turns up unexpectedly at his office (cliched to the point of parody) (this scene was also more cringe-worthy than a Fawlty Towers finale). I hate to think of a slut like Scarlett throwing herself at Husband, but at least I know he would say: “Scarlett, I know you want me. That’s understandable. But step away from the lunchbox. I mean it. I am madly in love with my wife, and you have thick legs.”
Then we have The Wife, who was more concerned whether her husband was smoking on the sly than shagging some slut (see above). The Wife finds a packet of cigarettes wrapped in his gym towel – but I ask you: if someone is covering up an illicit smoking habit, do they really HIDE packets of cigarettes? Surely they SMOKE THEM? I would have thought illicit smokers buy packs of twenty, go to a secluded spot, and inhale the lot of them, one after another, in a furtive five minute session before burning any remaining evidence.
Well, that’s what I would do.
So, I don’t recommend it. Watch something else. Yoga and Meditation For Stress Relief, for example.
And don’t get me started on the other movie we watched.
Great evening though – thanks MarkJ