Comedy, Tragedy

I've been trying to watch more movies lately, having reinstated my Netflix membership for the third time. I've quit twice before. When I first signed up, I was doing the 3 movies at a time deal, but that was far too overwhelming. I felt pressured to watch them and send them right back, to get my money's worth. The second time I think I went to 2 at a time, and instead of not watching them and sending them back and feeling guilty about not having watched; I forged some slap-dash movie copying operation where I would file the movies away to enjoy at my leisure. This lasted for about 12 movies before I tired of the operation, and to date, about a year and a half after the halt of operations, I may have watched 2 of these movies. 1.8, actually, as my copy of Match Point self-destructed at the penultimate scene. The rest are gathering dust in a card-file box under my bed.

So I've been doing better this time 'round, actually watching movies on a much more manageable one-at-a-time plan. This weekend I watched one Netflix movie, then one on actual TV, so I feel kind of accomplished.

The first, Death at a Funeral, was super funny. Like, screaming/laughing so hard my dog left the room in annoyance funny.

The second, An American Crime, was super depressing and scary. But I will say that I much prefer this version of Ellen Page to the Juno one, mainly because she barely spoke. The subject matter, though, was just kind of haunting. Afterwards I immediately took to the internets to read as much about the case as I could find, and in light of my recent neighborly issues, I'm going to be a little more selective about who I flip off in the old neighborhood.

Sniffles & Stuff

I meant to write something about the whole Ellen dog adoption ridiculousness, and my thoughts on the subject as animal adoption has been quite prevalent in my life lately. But, as usual, I never got around to it until it was too late and/or I didn't care about it anymore. Plus, I heard somewhere that Ellen may have adopted & discarded up to 9 dogs or something in recent years, which is just batshit crazy.

I got a flu shot the other day, and am feeling the effects now. I hate the sniffles, but at least it gave me something to pass the time earlier tonight as I watched the movie "We Own the Night"---my sister is big on Joaquin. This movie was terrible. A terrible movie with good actors in it and Eva Mendes, who is not a good actor. This movie was like "The Departed" (in that Mark Wahlberg was in both), but for people with head injuries. It was just baffling, really. It was set in 1988, probably the least interesting time in American history. And the music was all wrong. Lots of Blondie & Clash which was totally inappropriate for 1988. I did see a preview for "No Country for Old Men", which looks kinda badass, so that's something.

Georgia Rule (the only rule is it must be random)

I was going to write a long review of a pretty crappy movie I saw recently (Georgia Rule) but I decided it wasn't worth an actual review with plot and stuff, well because there wasn't much of a plot. I'll just say that Lindsay Lohan played herself, a bratty and promiscuous (let's face it, I really mean obnoxious and slutty) young lady (well, not so much a lady as sexual organs with legs) named Rachel, Felicity Huffman played her alcoholic momma, and Jane Fonda played her rather stern, but confused, gramma. I say confused because throughout the movie she made people put soap in their mouths when they took the "Lord's name in vain," but 5 minutes after being reunited with Lindsay, I mean Rachel, after 13 years, she tells her granddaughter to "go fuck yourself." Doesn't add up, unless Gramma is a little senile.

Randomness ensued.

Um, let's see. The village idiot falls in love with Lindsay, I mean Rachel, and wants to marry her after she gives him a BJ. He makes her go with him to tell his girlfriend, which wastes at least ten minutes of the movie. Wow, we get it, Lindsay, I mean Rachel, is hot stuff.

So Lindsay, I mean Rachel, gets into a fight with a 12 year old boy, who gets a boner while rolling around with her in the grass. Pointless part of the movie, unless it is supposed to show just how hot Lindsay, I mean Rachel, is supposed to be. Like it takes much for a 12 year old boy.

Also, Lindsay, I mean Rachel, is dressed in the ugliest clothes they could find, like denim booty shorts rolled up and white patent leather platform sandals. And tight, low cut tank tops. Is this girl from Sunset Blvd. or San Francisco? Again, we get it (pounded into our heads), Lindsay, I mean Rachel, is the hottest thing to hit Idaho since, well, the sun.

She likes poetry, which I guess is supposed to soften her character, but that is lame, lame, lame.

All of a sudden, the plot-that-never-was thickens! Lindsay, I mean Rachel, in a kind of battle- of-who-has-the-saddest-life with the town doctor (he lost his wife and son in a car accident) blurts out that her stepfather(played by Cary Elwes; let's call him Wesley, shall we?) started sleeping with her at the age of 12. Tough call on the winner of that battle.

The rest of the movie pretty much consists of the village idiot, the doctor, the senile gramma, and drunken momma trying to figure out if she was lying about the whole thing. I guess we were supposed to be figuring it out as well, but I didn't care. I knew we would be force-fed the truth eventually.

(Oh yeah, there is a tiny subplot about how Lindsay, I mean Rachel, was supposed to go to Vassar, but she fucked-up the paperwork. Big surprise. Even bigger surprise: Lindsay, I mean Rachel, who has been a druggie (she smoked crank, according to momma) and a general loser since the age 14, would be accepted into Vasser, who by their own account, is "very selective." Biggest surprise of all: that she would be accepted last minute; don't they have a wait list at that school?)

We meet the Ferrari-driving stepfather, who of course denies the whole thing. Oh yeah, gramma decides it would be best for Lindsay, I mean Rachel, to stay at the doctor's apartment. She tries to sneak into his bed and have sex with him. I think it was just an excuse to dress her in lingerie. At this point, I'm not sure if they are trying to convince us that she views everything as sexual because she was abused, or if we are supposed to sympathize with her step-Wesley, like maybe she came onto him, like she seems to come on to everybody, from the village idiot to the town doctor. I wouldn't think that about a 12 year old, but some people might.

Then Lindsay, I mean Rachel, tells momma that she was lying, secretly blackmails Wesley with the threat that a friend had hid in her closet and videotaped him and that if her mom ever finds out the truth she will take him to court for $10 million, and then sends momma on back to San Fran with Wes. Hubbinawah??? She wants her mom's happiness over justice? Seems kind of gross to let your mom live with a child molester, but that's not for me to say.

On the way home, momma asks where Wes's beloved Ferrari is. He offhandedly tells her that he left it in Idaho and that L, I mean R, can have it. This leads to momma's realization that L, I mean R, was telling the truth. She gets out, Wes yells at her that L, I mean R, came onto him (gross!) and that they will never be able to prove anything, and momma starts walking back toward Idaho.

All of a sudden, the village idiot's truck pulls up, carrying said idiot, senile gramma, the doctor, and L, I mean R; except they made her sit in the truck bed with the village idiot's much smarter dog, which I think is hilarious. She jumps out and runs to her momma, throwing her arms around her.

The end. I don't recommend this movie.

Well, look at that. The review ended up being long anyways.