26 August, 2011

It's Friday: Let's Piss Off Reese Witherspoon!

OK, how hard is it, really, to turn off a fucking TV when you leave the room? All these goddamned kids pile into the living room first thing in the morning, start a DVD, and then filter out of the room one by one leaving whatever it is they started just play. You know why I sent my brother a DVD of Tropic Thunder for Xmas? Because people would watch the movie, then get up and leave without stopping it, thus allowing the title screen to play on an endless loop. Just over and over again. And then I'd get up to see how in hell anybody could stand sitting in a room with that title screen just going looping nonstop to find an empty living room. An empty living room. A TV with the sound cranked up to louder than hell playing a looped title screen to an empty. Damned. Room.
This morning, it was a Reese Witherspoon movie. And I'm not talking about one of those deep, smart, head-turning, semi-serious Reese Witherspoon movies like Election or SFW. No, this was Sweet Home Alabama.
Now, I get it. I should quit hatin'. For one thing, people who've seen it tell me it's not bad. Half of those people are people whose opinions I trust. Also? I'm the guy that watched 13 Going on 30.* I did that. (By the way, not a bad movie.)
But still. I've got to know what's up with Reese Witherspoon. Have you seen her IMDb? She's in Water for Elephants and Walk the Fucking Line. She's the woman who played June Carter Cash. June. Carter. Cash. This woman:
And you know what else she did? Legally Blonde. Both Legally Blondes, as a matter of fact. I mean... OK, I probably shouldn't hate to hard on the Legally Blondes because Jimmie saw them and said they're not bad.
Maybe that's it. Maybe having a dorky, schmaltzy concept - or, at least, a concept that doesn't appeal to me - for a movie is made automatically not bad when you get Reese Witherspoon to sign on. Maybe she's - OK, you know what an angel investor is? Wikipedia it right quick and then come back.
No, no. I can wait. I'm going to get a slice of last night's pizza.
OK, I'm back. Are you all caught up? Good. Maybe Reese Witherspoon is an angel actress. You think that's what it is? That maybe she takes time away from her busy schedule of being in serious, thought provoking films (like fucking Rendition) to help some cheesy, lame-o, gross-out-gag-based-but-equally-family-friendly movie like Four Christmases get off the ground? Check the credits on that movie. The director has thirteen directing credits to his name, five of those are TV shows, two are documentaries, and two are short films. The first one, Squirt has a cast of two, how hard could it have been to direct? Four Christmases was his first major motion picture. The first two screen writers? First time screen writers. The other two screen writers? At least they would go on to write The Hangover which I heard was funny but I fell asleep somewhere around Ed Helms finding the Tiger in the bathroom and woke up during the closing credits with no burning desire to try to watch it again.
But you're feeling me, right? This was a pretty green crew we had here with a pretty questionable concept for a major motion picture. Who could they call? Vince Vaughn? Yeah, obviously, but Vince Vaughn's a movie slut; he'll get down with any script you shove in front of him. No. They needed somebody who could take that goddamned stupid movie (which I've never seen and therefore have no frame of reference) and pull it off the ground.
Robert Duvall? No.
Sissy "Carrie" Spacek? No.
Jon Voight? No.
Mary Steenburgen? No.
Not even all that revered and wise old talent could polish this turd of a movie that I have never seen and therefore have no place to judge it. They needed to add just that much more talent to it but with a youthful and peppy energy. They needed Reese "June Mother Carter Fucking Cash" Witherspoon to come up in there and angel act the shit out of that role. Why? Because Reese Witherspoon cares, cares about the first timers.** She's an angel actress.
And how fitting is it that our classical interpretations of angels are of an Aryan decent and Reese Witherspoon... wait. Does she have blue eyes? Yep. Yep. She's an Aryan.***

* When my boss caught me watching it, I told him, What? I'm never going to go out and rent it. It's on TV, I may as well watch it.
** I wouldn't have minded if she had cared about my first time.
*** OK, this is the second Friday this month where I've described somebody's features as "Aryan".† Perhaps I should stop that for a while before my web traffic ceases to come from searches for spider woman porn and starts coming from white power searches.
† By the way, when I say "Aryan", I so don't mean it in a white power-y way. That's just what I call people with blonde hair and blue eyes because that's the word for a blonde-haired blue-eyed person, right?
Oh.
So it really has nothing to do with ethnicity or physical features, it has to do with the Sanskrit word for "noble" that has been co-opted and popularized by bigots and hate-mongers for decades perhaps centuries. So it seems that, this week at least, I pretty much legitimately pissed off Reese Witherspoon by calling her an Aryan. Unless she's into hate-mongering and I just never knew that about her.
Also? I look like a jackass now for calling blonde-haired blue-eyed people "Aryans" for half of my adult life. Great.

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