Chick Flicks
"What are we doing tonight?"
It's a difficult question that when followed by - "There's a movie I want to see," - takes a downward turn.
I am still queasy from the movie Holiday where Cameron Diaz' performance was so putrid that I said midway through - "If she doesn't get naked soon, I'm out of here."
My wife smiled, but ten minutes later, I was gone, cursing myself all the way up the stairs for having watched even a second of that movie. "You're really going to bed?" Kathy asked. "Don't you want to see how it ends?"
"Unless they all get blown to pieces and I get to see the carnage it won't be worth it," I said.
Yes, my wife has a tendency to pick some real winners. When I see Jennifer Aniston or Ben Affleck on the cover of the movie, I run for the nearest computer. If Keanu Reeves is involved I might watch for a moment just so I can mock his wooden style. He is hands-down the worst actor ever, but Cameron Diaz is in the conversation.
Of course that is simply my opinion, so last night, with some real hesitation, I decided to give one of my wife's movies another try. I had heard good things about Juno so there was a chance that it wouldn't be a colossal waste of time. Still I mixed a martini, just in case.
It's amazing what interesting characters and snappy dialogue can do for a script. I enjoyed every second of the movie and was actually rooting for the ending that played out. It was a movie that wasn't sappy, wasn't too full of itself, and portrayed a bit of real life.
"It was good, wasn't it?" my wife asked as though she made the movie.
"I liked it," I said quickly.
"I told you I wanted to see it," she answered.
All right, all right - you win a short reprieve - the score now stands at one good movie against 42 crap ones.
I'm still trying to get back the two hours I spent watching Keanu as a dramatic actor in Sweet November - and Charlize Theron didn't get naked either.
It's a difficult question that when followed by - "There's a movie I want to see," - takes a downward turn.
I am still queasy from the movie Holiday where Cameron Diaz' performance was so putrid that I said midway through - "If she doesn't get naked soon, I'm out of here."
My wife smiled, but ten minutes later, I was gone, cursing myself all the way up the stairs for having watched even a second of that movie. "You're really going to bed?" Kathy asked. "Don't you want to see how it ends?"
"Unless they all get blown to pieces and I get to see the carnage it won't be worth it," I said.
Yes, my wife has a tendency to pick some real winners. When I see Jennifer Aniston or Ben Affleck on the cover of the movie, I run for the nearest computer. If Keanu Reeves is involved I might watch for a moment just so I can mock his wooden style. He is hands-down the worst actor ever, but Cameron Diaz is in the conversation.
Of course that is simply my opinion, so last night, with some real hesitation, I decided to give one of my wife's movies another try. I had heard good things about Juno so there was a chance that it wouldn't be a colossal waste of time. Still I mixed a martini, just in case.
It's amazing what interesting characters and snappy dialogue can do for a script. I enjoyed every second of the movie and was actually rooting for the ending that played out. It was a movie that wasn't sappy, wasn't too full of itself, and portrayed a bit of real life.
"It was good, wasn't it?" my wife asked as though she made the movie.
"I liked it," I said quickly.
"I told you I wanted to see it," she answered.
All right, all right - you win a short reprieve - the score now stands at one good movie against 42 crap ones.
I'm still trying to get back the two hours I spent watching Keanu as a dramatic actor in Sweet November - and Charlize Theron didn't get naked either.
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