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emmanation

You like me! Of course, you probably don't know me very well.

Archive for the ‘movie club’ Category

I’ve got this under control – just let me grab my bazooka

Monday, April 26th, 2010

Crockett and I went to see Kick Ass Tuesday night. I’d proposed a date night and he was amenable, provided that it included either The Avett Brothers or Hot Tub Time Machine. The Avett Brothers were sold out and we were far too old and unstoned (it was 4/20 in Boulder CO!) to try to find a scalper. When we arrived at the movie theater I trumped his Hot Tub Time Machine request with my desire to see Kick Ass and the fact that I paid for dinner – I’m surprised he didn’t see it coming, honestly.

I was determined to see it for two reasons. 1) I lurve me some superheroes. 2) From what I’d heard of Hit Girl, I was pretty sure she had a good chance of replacing Coraline in my personal stable of girls-I-wanna-be-when-I-reverse-grow-up girls.

You guys? I cried. I cried during Kick Ass, and not just once. I cried for probably half an hour of the movie.

If you’re not familiar with the movie, here’s what’s public knowledge from the previews. It’s based on a culty comic book that no non-comic book nerds have ever read. We start with a very nice, geeky boy Dave somewhere in New York City wondering why no real people have busted out the superhero persona. It’s possible, right? Sure, a little suicidal, but when you’re a bored 16 year old, what else do you have to do? Dave orders an exceptionally cheesy green and yellow neoprene suit off the Internet, does the obligatory ‘you talking to ME?’ poses in the mirror, and heads out to kick some ass. In the spirit of why be original when being prosaic will be equally effective and require less work, he chooses the super hero name of Kick Ass.

It turns out that Kick Ass is not, in fact, the only game in town. From the previews you know there is a cockatiel looking kid with fancy toys named Red Mist and a father/daughter team named Big Daddy and Hit Girl. It’s all very exciting, and if the previews didn’t make you want to go see it, I think you’re broken somewhere inside and should probably seek professional help.

WARNING: I’M ABOUT TO SAY THINGS THAT WILL GIVE AWAY PARTS OF THE MOVIE YOU DO NOT WANT GIVEN AY IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN IT AND PLAN TO. IF THAT’S THE CASE, SCROLL DOWN TO THE OTHER LONG AND INTRUSIVE CAPITALIZED SENTENCE UNDER THE PICTURE OF RED MIST.

If you, like me, want the movie to be all Hit Girl all the time, you’ll be disappointed. She and Big Daddy don’t make an appearance until after Kick Ass goes out on his first ass kicking adventure. His first attempt at crime stopping comes when he sees muggers he’s familiar with trying to steal a car. He pulls his clothes off – he’s been wearing his superhero suit as underwear every day just in case - and proceeds to get beaten so badly that the majority of his limbs are shattered and need to be reinforced with titanium and his nerves stop responding to impact. After an unspecified period of time, he gets let out of the hospital and returns to school.

They never truly address that Kick Ass’s original point – that normal people can be superheros – is now completely invalidated as far as he’s concerned. When he tried to fight as a normal person, he got trounced and bad – it’s not until he’s part Wolverine and part that kid in my elementary school class who would run into walls screaming ‘it doesn’t hurt’ that he starts to have some success. His success, of course, comes in the form of a viral video.

Now Hit Girl and Big Daddy show up – in the form of him shooting her in the chest. She’s wearing a bullet proof vest and he wants to her know what it feels like – you know, so that when the bad guys aim a gun at her she won’t be scared.

She and Big Daddy reach out to Kick Ass, welcoming him to the fold, but while Kick Ass is all about stopping petty criminals, they have a bigger goal. Big Daddy is an ex-cop, and went to jail when Hit Girl was just a fetus after being framed by the criminal kingpin Frank D’Amico. Something bad happened to Hit Girl’s mom (I don’t know what, I had to pee shutUP), and Hit Girl was raised by Big Daddy’s cop partner while Big Daddy served his time.

Despite the obvious difference in costumes, D’Amico confuses Big Daddy (who has been taping himself killing D’Amico’s men and sending the tapes to D’Amico) and Kick Ass. D’Amico’s son brilliantly deduces that the way to get a superhero to trust you is to be a superhero yourself, and Red Mist is born.

A tangled superhero love/hate web thing starts happening, and it ends with the death of Big Daddy and D’Amico, leaving Red Mist as the cranky antihero for future installments.

OK – I THINK YOU SHOULD BE FINE NOW. NO MORE SPOILERS, I PROMISE CROSS MY HEART HOPE TO DIE STICK A NEEDLE IN MY EYE.

Let’s just get this out there – Hit Girl is not ok. She is not a well adjusted child. She does not have a particularly healthy relationship with her father. She kills people and she uses the word ‘cunt’ without even wincing. She is damaged in more ways than most adult superheroes, and that’s before the trauma the movie inflicts on her. She has capital letter bold italic ISSUES. She is, in my humble untrained opinion, a sociopath.

The story line that she and Big Daddy share is so much darker than Kick Ass’s origins. Even when Kick Ass gets hurt (which I’m assuming you can conclude happens occasionally since he’s a regular dude in a wetsuit fighting crime), it’s in a light sunshiny way. When Big Daddy asks Hit Girl what she wants for her birthday, she says something girly like ‘a pony’. When she sees the look of disappointment on his face, she says ‘I’m just fucking with you, daddy. I’d like a couple of switchblades.’ She takes bullets to the chest and kills people to please her father.  It’s more than a little disturbing, because she (unlike the other characters) isn’t truly making her own choices.

I know that it’s a movie based on a comic book, and I know that there are people out there who will think I’m taking this too seriously. ‘Chill out, Emma. It’s just a movie.’

I am chill. I fucking LOVED this movie. Yeah, I cried – Hit Girl’s entire storyline made me cry. I am going to be Hit Girl for Halloween (just putting that out there now – the rest of you can do it too if you must but we’ll always have this blog post to prove that you copied me).  I love Hit Girl in all her sociopathic-daddy-issues glory, and you should too.

emmanation rating: that wedding cake from Like Water For Chocolate that was extra delicious because of all the tears in it.

mambo italiano

Friday, March 26th, 2010

Let’s pretend we’re having a real conversation instead of the kind we normally have where I talk a bunch and sometimes you comment and sometimes you just send me happy thoughts, ok?

I’ll do your part though, since it’s a conversation I’ve had a lot of times and I can pretty much predict what you’re going to say.

You: Emma, have you seen The Hurt Locker/Crash/The Curious Case of Benjamin Button?
Me: Nope.
You: Oh, you totally have to! It’s so good!!
Me: Not going to happen.
You:…. because you hate things that are good?
Me: Yes. But also because I hate movies where bad and sad things happen.
You: But you love horror movies?
Me: Obviously.
You: Ah ha! I have found the flaw in your usually impeccable logic!
Me: Oh, really? What’s that?
You: Bad things happen in horror movies ALL THE TIME. Horror movies are just basically an excuse to put bad things on film! And yet you enjoy them! So you enjoy seeing bad things happen in movies!
Me: Were all of those exclamation points really necessary, you?
You: Yes.
Me: Really long explanation about how horror movies are an affirmation of the human will to survive and blah blah blah they are full of strong women etc etc.  I’ve written about the strong women part before.
You: If I tell you I understand, will you shut up?
Me: On this topic or in general?
You: This topic.
Me: Yep.
You: I understand. It makes perfect sense. Also, have I mentioned how pretty you look  today?
Me: Several times, but I never tire of hearing it.

Let this be a lesson to you. STOP ASKING. I love horror movies. You know who the good guys are, who the bad guys are, and who you can probably pin your heart to without risking it getting broken. I will watch them if I want. And I’m not going to watch your depressing flick about post-war something something. BUT (unless you’re Crockett), I won’t make you watch my movies either. Deal?

more than a feeling

Tuesday, February 2nd, 2010

I have a pretty rockin’ life. For example, no one has yet called me on my recent verging-on-abusive use of the word ‘rockin’.

Of course, that’s not all. I have people who love me that I love back, a good job, fabulous friends, yada yada pretend-I’m-talking-like-Charlie-Brown’s-mom-yada.

So my fabulous life is clearly not the point here, is it? I mean, if I wrote a whole post about how ‘golly gee I’m just so lucky and everything in my life is so perfect and look at how handsome my boyfriend is’, you’d probably want to stab me in the face (if you’re having a bad day). And of course, it’s not perfect, but I’m extremely grateful for where it’s good.

Also? Some things suck. Like:

  • The light in my upstairs hallway is broken. At night. It works just fine during the day.
  • Sometimes? When I’m walking the girls? Even though I inspect their poop pickin up bags for holes, I don’t see the hole that I later come to find in the grossest way possible. (Ok, the grossest way possible would be if I’d broken my hands and somehow had to use my mouth to pick up poop. A) That would never happen. B) I am so unbelievably sorry I just said that.)
  • We have razors with six blades but no home laser razors. I really want a laser razor and it pisses me off that there is no such thing.
  • The fact that the best celebrity I could come up with for Facebook this week of celebrity dopplegangers was Janeane Garofalo. Because what am I going to say – Natalie Portman? Even she’s who I really think I look like, it felt a little ‘hey Facebook I think I’m, like, the prettiest girl in the world’. Also, no one has said ‘Emma, WHY did you pick Janeane Garofalo? You look nothing like her at all! That’s just silly!’. No one. At all.
  • I think that I’ve finally gotten all of my birthday presents. I was hoping for at least one more and at least a couple more cards and maybe an obligatory $5 from my grandma, but we’ve left my birthday month and I’m having to let that dream go. Go dream, go the way of my dream of one day waking up to find that I’ve not only finally gotten the American Girl doll I’ve always wanted, but that I’ve shrunk down to her size so we can go have adventures and never ever go to school ever again.

I think that’s all that sucks today. Other than the fact that dogs can detect earthquakes but we still can’t. Oh, and the fact that all of the A. Einsteins in the phone book use just the A, whereas all the A. Hitlers in the phone book spell their first name out. You know, in case someone wakes up and thinks ‘I’m going to call Einstein today and tell him ‘thumbs up dude’ and then find that Hitler guy and give him a piece of my mind’.

P.S. NEW MOVIE CLUB ANNOUNCEMENT. Hopefully this time we chose a movie by someone who is too busy to spend days trying to make me cry. Find out what the tiniest sprinter picked!

last one – promise

Tuesday, January 26th, 2010

I swear. After this you will never see the words Black Devil Doll on this blog ever again.

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we are SO unpopular right now

Monday, January 25th, 2010

Among people who sometimes maybe get a little carried away.

I mean, we didn’t like the hate in the movie. I guess some people are into that kind of thing.

the two people in the Black Devil Doll fan club hate us and are mocking us on facebook, part 1 A) Just because the tiniest sprinter is 5′ 4″ doesn’t mean he’s a girl. Not that I would mind – I always wanted a sister. But seriously.

B) Yes, these comments show amazing respect for women. Way to prove me wrong.

C) RECKING a grade schooler’s life DOES sound cool! You are so SMART right now!

D) My brother is an amazing fucking writer. You’re the one who commented on his blog ‘you’re retarded’. (Again, way to show that respect that I claimed you didn’t have.)

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