Thursday, February 3, 2011
The Interlopere at the Movies
Dear Readers -
In between work and meeting Lawyer Joe for our man date (more on this later) I saw a little film called No Strings Attached starring the Kutch and Black Swan. Now I never understand why anyone other than Demi Moore would want to make a movie with the Kutch and at this point she seems to be the only one who has resisted. I was at the 2nd day of the Spread with the Kutch and Anne Heche and let me tell you the sex in that movie made Showgirls look like the video you had to watch in 6th grade health class about getting your period and a stir in your pants when a pretty girl walked by. I didn't fit into either category. This was the beginning of me feeling VERY special.
Back to the movie: who buys this shit? No one talks like this. And do the studios get together and figure out which studio will take that one and which will take this one? I mean, this movie could have been called Love and Other Drugs Minus the Stupid Disease That No One is Buying Just Because Your Hand Trembles Every Now and Then. So does mine, it's called being hungover.
Also, what is with the shitty trend of making these women relationship haters? Is this some 18th-wave Feminist bullshit that screenwriters think that we want to believe? That "independent woman" somehow means "grumpy whore"?
And then the other part - and perhaps - most obvious - is why bother? We all know how this shit ends. With Black Swan molting and the Kutch trying to so hard to push out tears while thinking about what Grandma Moore's knees looked like pre-surgery. I mean, cut the shit already.
Perhaps to add insult to injury, these movies, without fail, have great supporting actors with absolutely nothing to do. Watching poor Greta Gerwig pretend to be interested in anything (or anyone) in this movie was painful. And Kevin Kline as the Kutch's father who steals his girlfriend... he got the role of the horny old lady only the (lady) screenwriter thought it clever to make him a man. Not clever. Lame. Stupid.
And shockingly - or not so I suppose - is the audience at my 5:40 screening on 34th Street ate this shit up! They were laughing when they were supposed to and many times there were audible gasps when the Kutch would be shirtless. He's Vince Vaughn waiting to happen people. They only difference is that Grandma Moore will keep him propped up on Botox so that when they stand next to each other at premieres (the only thing she does these days other than tweet from ruins) she won't look so bizarre.
Skip this shit and instead rent Going the Distance with Drew Barrymore and Justin Long. It's one of the better romantic comedies I've ever seen.