M's Musings on SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE

Sleepless in Seattle.  Written and directed by Nora Ephron.  Based on a story by Jeff Arch.  Ft. Tom Hanks, Meg Ryan and Ross Malinger.  Sony, 1993.

I needed a mental break today, but I just couldn't give it to myself.  Thankfully, T. insisted.  He put me to bed and made me watch this.  I have complained much of late over the whole romantic comedy genre.  These are movies that are neither funny nor romantic.  Just a whole lot of Tom Cruise being crazy, and me wishing that we hadn't shopped around in this genre.

Sleepless in Seattle worked better than everything we have been watching, I think, because it really didn't try to be funny.  This isn't a romantic comedy.  It's just a drama that tries to be romantic...  That said, it isn't really romantic at all, either.  In fact, the two actors share about two minutes of screen time, combined, in the whole film.  They could very well have filmed together for one week, and that's it.  Double billing extraordinaire.

I liked seeing women be emotional on screen and have men make fun of them.  I don't know if that is terrible and politically incorrect, but its true.  It's a giant reality check.  If T. doesn't remind me that I am getting too emotional, I let it take me over completely, and am pretty much the worst person to be around on the entire planet.

Now:  Movies as escapism which set unrealistic expectations.  Yes, the women of the 90s are screaming, "rah! rah! down with love and romance!" but secretly hope they can find their Cary Grants and Humphrey Bogarts.  This is what I have to say:  if it feels good do it, even if you are going to get made fun of mercilessly.  If you want to watch these movies and go somewhere else, live the dream (if that's your dream), then more power to you.  Especially if it helps you grow and be creative.  Just, above all things, make sure it really makes you feel good, and is giving you energy instead of taking it away.

I hate Meg Ryan.  I don't know why.  There is just something about her.  I think she is completely unconvincing in most roles, and that's why I can never manage to really believe she is capable of the strong emotions she professes.  I don't know what I want, but she isn't it.  Believe the things you say, and I think it comes across better on screen.

Tom Hanks, you are sweet.  I like you as a dad, though not as well as I liked you as a kid.  This seems like a relatively recent follow-up movie (five years... so only sort of kind of), and I thought you were continuing to endear yourselves in the hearts of women.  The scene with your dead wife was a bit creepy, and I loved the awkward scene where he calls for a date.

Overall, this helped shake some stress away, and didn't make my day any worse.  I am still hoping to find a better film in this genre, but I am also looking forward to hunting around in another area all together.  I wonder what treasures T. will come up with next.

For a different take on this film, check it out as a horror movie.  Pretty accurate.  Tell me what you think of this 60 seconds of cheekiness.

M's Musings on JERRY MAGUIRE

Jerry Maguire.  Written and directed by Cameron Crowe.  Ft.  Tom Cruise, Renee Zellweger, Cuba Gooding Jr.  Sony, 1996.

You know what, I actually had kind of high expectations for this film.  I am not usually so swayed, but enough people have talked about this as some ideal romantic comedy, that I kind of thought I was going to be swept away by its brilliance.

Suffice it to say, I wasn't.  Not only is the profession of sports agent really difficult to relate to as an audience member, but Tom Cruise is a super weird guy at that.  I wanted him to SHOW ME  THE MONEY, but instead, all he did was SHOW ME THE CRAZY.  I didn't need any more crazy in my day, thank you very much.

Tom Cruise is infinitely unlikeable.  He doesn't treat women nicely, in fact, his character has no problem with the fact that he is incapable of intimacy.  He runs around all day, screaming and wheeling and dealing, and then comes home and bangs some broad to get out his ya yas.  Very respectful, Jerry Maguire.  I am definitely fantasizing about THAT tonight.  

Barf.

I didn't even feel compassionate toward Renee Zellweger's character.  She was starry eyed, overly emotional, and easily manipulated.  She is by no means independent, though before she hooks up with Jerry she certainly is able to take care of her own.   I think one thing this film did do a good job of expressing was the desire to find a father for one's children over a partner for yourself.  The fact that Jerry bonds with the child is important, and the only real source of joy in the whole movie.

That little kid *almost* made this film worth it for me.  

Next time, I am not going to be persuaded by promises of romance.  Having seen very few romantic comedies, I am hoping that there are some out there that really do tug at my heart strings and make me love again!  As of this moment, all these films make me do is think... oh god, please don't tell me anyone is looking at this film as a romantic ideal.

I am so glad I have T.  Not only is he sweet, charming and good looking...  but he'll never be a sleazeball like Jerry Maguire.

Dear Readers, if you know of a happy romantic movie, send it our way.  I am going to suggest skipping the genre all together if we get any more duds.

T's Take on GHOST

Ghost.  Dir. Jerry Zucker.  Screenplay by Bruce Joel Rubin.  Ft. Patrick Swayze, Demi Moore and Whoopi Goldberg.  Paramount, 1990.

M: I wish they'd change the hair. Or make them both better somehow. All I see is hair. Bad hair.

M: Why is she dressed like a man?

M: This is one of the top ten romance movies? For what?

M: We should have just watched Beauty and the Beast

M: This movie sucks! It sucks! Why did we watch this movie if you knew it sucked?! You did this to us! You did it with Ghost!

M: Baby... Next time we have sex do you want me to pretend I'm Patrick Swayze in Whoopie Goldberg's body? Is that what this is about?

I sat through this movie for her. I saw it a second time because she wanted to watch something romantic. When she said that, I bit my tongue, because I love her. When she suggested Ghost, I didn't flinch. The man inside me was screaming and crying and scratching at the walls of my psyche, but I held back, because why not? She's done some pretty heroic and incredible things for me in the past. No judgment in brainstorming, after all, and it's not entirely up to me what we watch. The complex inner workings of the Modern Woman are largely unknown to me. Relationships are about compromise, and it was, before tonight, my understanding that chicks dig the Swayze.

Having said that, I was both relieved and dismayed at her response. It's good to know that she is, in fact, a human being with full sensory capacity. But if she's not going to get all weepy about the tragic death of Sam Wheat, why did we watch it? I went into the film hoping for (at the very least) a bargaining chip to be used at a later date. At this point I can't see using Ghost as leverage to get Total Recall into the mix... She's blaming me for this fucking movie. Even now, at this very moment, she's scanning the internet and saying things like:

M: "You know, you can buy Ghost on VHS at Amazon for fifty-nine cents. What a ripoff."

M: "Yes! This movie is commemorated in the top ten worst movie lines ever. 'Ditto.' Pfft."

So what can I say? The story was flimsy and requested far too much suspension of disbelief. I hated all the characters. The storyline itself confuses romance with men jumping through hoops for their partners. I hate that shit. Why does romance always have to circle around a confused, helpless woman? Who cares? I wanted that Pourto Rican dude to kill her. The inevitable 'woman in peril' hook came up far too many times to be effective, and the whole money-laundering thing they kept dragging us back to felt forced.

Again: who cares? This movie was too squeaky clean and predictable to even approach being watchable. Why didn't Sam kill either/both of those guys when he had the chance? You're telling me he wouldn't? He gives four million dollars to the salvation army so that no-one would come after the psychic? Why not have her speak with Molly and divert that whole confluence of events? What? If they both just disappeared to some Caribbean island... I'm getting mad, now, and I'm sorry if we're getting off track.

He couldn't have gotten at least some of it to his girlfriend, who's only source of income is pottery?! I hate to try forcing logic into something that's not meant to be observed practically, but that's why she was with a banker in the first place! Now she's got the mortgage on a New York city townhouse to contend with, funeral bills, even the cost of living in that city would be back-breaking after a few weeks. They clearly weren't married, so what happens with his life insurance? Money never really seems to come into these boiled-down idiotic love stories. It's immaterial when compared to the loss of a loved one, I understand that, but she didn't need to think clearly to recieve the money.

I felt Patrick Swayze was miscast in this movie as an actor. Besides that, the character was not a man. It was not a male person. They tried to make him seem more masculine by having him dislike Macbeth and act hesitantly around the notion of marriage, but that was really the only attempt at humanizing him in that way - everything else was him reacting with an over-exaggerated gasp to the plotline. Every bad movie has some side character who's only job is to push the plot along; everything they say is the next step in the story. Usually this is a roommate, or a sibling, or a best friend. It shouldn't be the male lead.

This was a ghost story. It was a story about a ghost. It wasn't a love story, or a tale of resilliance and lasting affection that supersedes space and time... It was a fucking bank caper. Who cares? It doesn't matter! Things like this happen all the time! It would have been nice to see Demi Moore do anything but cry. Or have anything come out of it that was good. The best thing that happened was Demi Moore learned that she truly was loved by Patrick Swayze, who is now dead and gone forever, so enjoy your reopened wound. You know what? If Swayze hadn't interfered, that Willy guy probably would have avoided her, come back when the house was empty, got the money, and she never would have known the difference. Instead she was menaced by a man with a knife and lead on an emotional roller coaster and came out with the ghost (pardon the bad pun) of a man nobody could ever live up to the memory of. That banker dick probably would have been exed out by whatever faceless and briefly mentioned organized crime outfit (read: "... These people are drug dealers!") he was working for anyway, because when four million dollars goes missing you don't get to keep eighty thousand. You're not getting paid off. They're not real keen on witnesses like that. When that guy goes back for his cut he winds up in a hole. Nobody's giving you money, you idiot!

I guess the underlying current of Justice is what really bothered me about this movie. Bad people go to hell, Good people go to heaven, true love prevails and crime doesn't pay. Because that's not boring and useless and oversimplified at all. Never mind the super creepy Whoopatrick touching scene. Lesbianism isn't creepy. Patrick Swayze posessing Whoopy Goldberg's body and touching on his girl is creepy. Even creepier is the way Whoopy kind of... Submittingly subjected herself to it. Yuck.

Don't watch Ghost.

M's Musings on GHOST

Ghost.  Dir. Jerry Zucker.  Screenplay by Bruce Joel Rubin.  Ft. Patrick Swayze, Demi Moore and Whoopi Goldberg.  Paramount, 1990.

No offense to fans of the early 90s...  but seriously, didn't you have something better to spend your money on than Ghost?  Holy crap this movie was bad.  I didn't enjoy a single minute of it.  I must have moved around, whined, complained, and blamed T. for the full 127 minutes I spent watching this movie.

Earlier today I figured, we have enough posts under our belt, so, it must be time for something romantic.  You know...  warm our hearts, help us reconnect with our sappy sides after watching someone like Marilyn Monroe remind us how fake human interaction really is most of the time.  We perused some lists of top romantic movies, such as this and this, and I decided, what the hey, this might be a fun mix of supernatural and sentimentality.

But it wasn't.  And T. knew it.  He had seen this movie before.  He let us waste our energy watching this pile of refuse for reasons unknown to me.  My guess is that he wanted me to be dissuaded from suggesting romantic movies in the future.  But, what he may NOT have realized, is that now the hunt is ON!  Since that was so terrible, I want to find one that really takes my breath away, steals my heart, and makes me sigh inadvertently.

T., get ready for every romantic movie you have never before been subjected to!  Muhahahhahaaa!

And when you are ready to tear out your eyeballs, remember this:  You could have stopped this!

In short:  There was no chemistry between the actors.  All the acting was really choppy and poor.  Especially emotional close-ups of Patrick Swayze.  The special effects were distracting and weird.  The racial stereotyping was aggravating and not at all comedic.  The ghouls and heavenly light were just sad.  And, finally, the pinnacle of a movie should never be, "Ditto".

I hope someday people realize how bad this movie is.  Twenty years later, I would hope that any attachment to this story is gone.   Let me know it is just a hoax.  Seriously.  Because I just don't get it.

Enough said.