One of the loveliest traditions we have this Holiday season, girls, is that my father and I go to the movies; usually the day after Christmas, but with the Raving Queen's schedule this year, the days before. Sometimes we have hit pay dirt; sometimes tolerable disappointments (like when we went to see "Sweeney Todd"). Seeing a movie with my father is a challenge, not only because, at 95, he is unlikely to hear the soundtrack, but the choice of film has to be measured out in teems of how much cursing, nudity and other salactious ingredients are NOT in the movie. Short of "The Sound of Music" (which you know, darlings, I would be delighted to see, but unfortunately it is not playing, and I will NOT do the sing-along) it is pretty hard to find an acceptable film.
So when I saw the ads for this romantic comedy, "How Do You Know," I thought "Aha!"
With Reese Witherspoon, Owen Wilson (yummy!) and Paul Rudd (not altogether unattractive) it would at least be good to look at. And how bad could it be? Plus, it was written and directed by James L.Brooks, late of "Terms Of Endearment," so I had high hopes for this one.
These hopes were dashed as soon as my father and I entered the screening room. For we had virtually a private screening; we were the only ones in the theater. Now, if this had been "The Wizard Of Oz." great, but let me tell you this was no screen masterpiece. And while it was the afternoon, and people may indeed still have been working, or shopping, or whatever Holiday preparations they were embarking on, what this told me was not only was this potentially a piece of crap, but that maybe suburbanites are not as gullible as I thought when it comes to judging quality of material.
For this was a piece of crap. My father, who is hard of hearing, didn't even need a hearing aid, because even if you muted the sound, the story was so formulaic you could follow. But who cares???? Reese Witherspoon plays this indecisive jockette who can't make up her mind between Owen Wilson and Paul Rudd. Mr. Wilson does his usual smiling jerk routine, Rudd his sympathetic nice guy one, while a subdued Jack Nicholson plays.....well, a subdued Jack Nicholson. The title of this film, dolls, should have been "Paint By Numbers," because it had all the spontaneity of a paint-by-numbers-set, plus WE HAVE ALL SEEN THIS BEFORE. At the longest 116 minutes I have sat through recently, you would have thought I was watching "Potemkin," which, believe me, I wish I was. Hell, I wish I was watching "Teenagers From Outer Space" next to this junk.
I actually prayed my father or I would fall asleep; easy for him. But, no, he stayed awake, and so did I!!!! I guess we had to follow this film to its insipid conclusion, to see if it would end as consistently crappy as it had begun. When the lights finally came up (thank God!) I actually apologized to my father, for taking him to such a crappy film. But how could I have known???
Darlings, if by the time the lights go down, you are the ONLY one in the theater, the film is in trouble!!!!! Unless you are at a film company's screening room for a private Academy screening, forget it!!!!!!!!
You had to feel sorry for everyone involved. Couldn't the actors have found a better project than this?? But, then, you could not picture these actors in "Jane Eyre." I am not sure I could picture any of them reading it!!!!!!!!!!
But tradition has been honored, but I am telling you, darlings, watch out for crappy mmvies. Few things are as irksome as having one's artistic sensibilities offended. The best suggestion I can offer is pay more attention to the trailers, or take a risk and go see what you want ("The Fighter") and hope my father won't be able to hear the cursing!!!!!!!!!
And I am on vacation, no access to Bloody Marys or anything. Thank God for Monsieur Davide being imported tonight. And I will have more to report, darlings, But here is hoping your Holiday Season is going well, but even more important, that your moviegoing experience is better than mine!!!!!!
Lights, Camera, Action, loves!!!!!!!!
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