Nothing like a rant to get the blogging mind back on track.
Today I'm complaining about the growing trend that seems to permeate film, and in fact is not that recent a trend, when I think about it. What it is, is the idea that it doesn't matter if the guy is tubby, short, hairy, or generally not that attractive, but the GIRL has no option but to be hot. No questions.
I don't know if I'd feel better about things if the guy were also required to be hot. Or whether, if they were both ordinary looking, I'd feel as though a victory had been won. All I know is that the current state of things irks me. The girls are required to look deeper to find true beauty, but the guys are allowed to do what they like. Have I put too much thought into this?
Well, possibly. And yet, I felt it necessary to put in a blog. I suppose it's something that seems to have bled into my life, lately.
Meanwhile, the other night I saw The Box. If I had ever seen Donnie Darko, I probably would've been more prepared (same director), but I haven't, so I wasn't. (Side note: before the screening the MC said "I'm guessing there isn't a single one of you who hasn't seen Donnie Darko", followed by laughter from the audience, like la di frickin DA, nerdlingers.) The first part of the premise was REALLY well done -- the moment when the button is pressed (because you know there's no movie without that happening, but you still don't want it to happen) was gasp-inducing. Anyway, it was all very tense and quiet and suspenseful.....and then it went a little odd. Like, paranormal odd. Like zombie vessels with nosebleeds, odd. I suppose it raised some interesting questions, but I would have preferred a little less of the paranormal, I think. I mean, SOME, sure, but I think there was a more interesting story in the bare bones of the premise that didn't need the hoo-ha.
Last night, after a soul-crushing night in which I discovered that people I've known for half the year as part of my dance class don't actually know my name, I missed my connecting bus and ended stranded in the middle of a major road with no taxis in sight. This is what I don't like about Point B - its transport system leaves a LOT to be desired. Anyway, what followed was a 40minute walk home alone at 11pm, with many a run-in with cobwebs and bitey insects. Needless to say I wasn't feeling my best when I finally made it in the door, and lay on the floor for some time watching Glee. Unfortunately, even this excellent show (I'll have to express my love for it some other day) failed to lift me out of my mood, hence today's grumpy blog.
Grumpily yours,
O
Today I'm complaining about the growing trend that seems to permeate film, and in fact is not that recent a trend, when I think about it. What it is, is the idea that it doesn't matter if the guy is tubby, short, hairy, or generally not that attractive, but the GIRL has no option but to be hot. No questions.
I don't know if I'd feel better about things if the guy were also required to be hot. Or whether, if they were both ordinary looking, I'd feel as though a victory had been won. All I know is that the current state of things irks me. The girls are required to look deeper to find true beauty, but the guys are allowed to do what they like. Have I put too much thought into this?
Well, possibly. And yet, I felt it necessary to put in a blog. I suppose it's something that seems to have bled into my life, lately.
Meanwhile, the other night I saw The Box. If I had ever seen Donnie Darko, I probably would've been more prepared (same director), but I haven't, so I wasn't. (Side note: before the screening the MC said "I'm guessing there isn't a single one of you who hasn't seen Donnie Darko", followed by laughter from the audience, like la di frickin DA, nerdlingers.) The first part of the premise was REALLY well done -- the moment when the button is pressed (because you know there's no movie without that happening, but you still don't want it to happen) was gasp-inducing. Anyway, it was all very tense and quiet and suspenseful.....and then it went a little odd. Like, paranormal odd. Like zombie vessels with nosebleeds, odd. I suppose it raised some interesting questions, but I would have preferred a little less of the paranormal, I think. I mean, SOME, sure, but I think there was a more interesting story in the bare bones of the premise that didn't need the hoo-ha.Last night, after a soul-crushing night in which I discovered that people I've known for half the year as part of my dance class don't actually know my name, I missed my connecting bus and ended stranded in the middle of a major road with no taxis in sight. This is what I don't like about Point B - its transport system leaves a LOT to be desired. Anyway, what followed was a 40minute walk home alone at 11pm, with many a run-in with cobwebs and bitey insects. Needless to say I wasn't feeling my best when I finally made it in the door, and lay on the floor for some time watching Glee. Unfortunately, even this excellent show (I'll have to express my love for it some other day) failed to lift me out of my mood, hence today's grumpy blog.
Grumpily yours,
O
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