Gaines-sayings

They grow culture in a petri dish.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Mr. and Mrs. Glitz

Here's another round of my hella-late movie reviews tailor-made for those of you who watched a movie, formed an opinion, but want to reconsider. I finally got around to watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith just recently, and my principle reaction is that this movie should have had its own catalog. My, there are many intriguing suits, coats, dresses, turtlenecks, shoes, boots, and sunglasses for one to wear! Where can I buy these items!?! If I were a wee bit crazier myself, I would max out the credit cards, get a snazzy fake gun, and go "on the lam." Who needs to blow things up really or kill people really when life's all about running around stealthily in snazzy clothes or strolling around nonchalantly in snazzy clothes, or, indeed, dropping cavalierly from a high-rise building in a coat under which one is wearing snazzy bondage gear? Sign me up!

I must say, I did not begin my viewing with this interpretation in mind. What lured my attention in this direction, though, was the ubiquitous drink. In nearly every shot, a main character is imbibing coffee, champagne, a martini, red wine, juice, etc., etc. What the hell? I'm no actor, but I can just envision the script directions: lift cup to drink coffee; ponder marriage; take another sip of coffee. Certainly, beverage intake is situation appropriate, as are beverage containers. In a sweet, after trying-to-kill-one-another session, Brangelina drink fruit juice poured from a tomato-juice stained pitcher into two broken glass tumblers. You know, 'cause drinking from a broken glass container isn't dangerous or anything! Capital!

But I can't help feeling that beverages, clothes, and hairstyles are used as character development tools for characters who achieve no development whatsoever. Now wait a minute—you might say—these characters are supposed to be mysterious and remote! Nope: these characters are plain and boring. If it weren't for all the fighting, I'd have called this Mr. and Mrs. ZZZzzz. But what about the white-hot sex scenes—you protest. I don't consider violence sexy; I consider it scary. But, hey, that's just me—someone who used to volunteer to help abused women some of whom do consider violence sexy. Here's the upside of it all, Brad's "character" has a smirk; Angelina's has a squint...ok, ok, and purs-ey lips. If that gives you enough "story," then my hat's off to you. As for me, I kept thinking I'd rather go shopping.

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