A minor criticism can first be mentioned: the name of the heroine Continue reading…
chick flick
Young woman (Anne Hathaway) wants to be a writer but needs Continue reading…
This was an HBO series aimed at modern young women that is now available on DVD. It was a six-year sensation spanning the new millennium. Continue reading…
A Noel Coward play.
This is the original chick-flick; and a chick-flick in its most evil incarnation.
Married woman with successful but boring husband meets boyish and romantic doctor in train station.
They meet again…and again.
It is 1945, so nothing actually happens (though it comes shockingly close). But she wants it to; sort of; well, not really; but maybe; yes; no; well if you really love me.
The writing pours it on with things chicks love:
- The Man with an exuberant exposition of his calling — “you’re just a boy!”
- Man competently helps Woman (he gets the speck out of her eye).
- He confesses that something irrational has happened; then demands that she admit to the same.
- He wins her over by a gush of words.
- She gets to “surrender”– several times– but yet always gets to qualify it by her inner “reluctance.”
Noel Coward eventually came out of the closet as a homosexual. Weininger was also homosexual, who had explained the theory of the masculine as “interpreting the henids” of the feminine. There is some primal truth to this theory. But in the hands of a homosexual, it becomes perverse. There is too much insight into both sides of the divide, but with a twist: or should I say, twisted.
For purely historical and sociological reasons, some may want to view this.
I checked this out on a peradventure, feeling one day a lonely need to hear a southern accent. I was sadly disappointed.
Trying no doubt to be funny, this movie spoofs the South by a continuous mocking of Christianity, including the frequent taking of the Savior’s name. Even Santa– which we of course reject, but which, let the viewer beware, does function as a Christian symbol for the Hollywood ignoramuses that serve up this stuff– is made more vulgar by walking around in boxer shorts.
The store’s “Chanuka in August” campaign is something only self-important Hollywood could have thought of. 98% of Americans don’t give Chanuka a thought even in December– and that includes a goodly number of Jews.
The sappy love story of the main girl (Laura Breckenridge) is deconstructed by a pseudo-reality post-production faux-interview, in which everything that might have had a bit of charm in the movie is rendered base.
