“‘...chick flick,’ chirrupy and upbeat, sings a different tune, more defiant and ironic, postmodern and post-feminist, like the growling braggadocio of ‘grrrl power.’ Where ‘grrrl power’ says, “I can be cute and assertive too.” ‘Chick flick’ says: “I’m emancipated but it’s OK to long for romance, to get hung up on a guy, to obsess about mothers or children…”
~ Film critic, Molly Haskell
I slipped down to the basement for a moment of reprieve. My friends’ home cinema was awaiting me…complete with digital surround sound and high-definition picture. I turned off the lights and ignited the projector. I looked at the DVD player and saw the video already waiting in the carriage.
I gazed silently at the disk for several moments as my friends’ youngest came downstairs. Mama Mia? I love that movie!”
“Is it any good?” I asked.
“It’s all ABBA songs,” was the reply with a grin. “It’s awesome!”
I shrugged. ABBA was okay. I slipped the disk into the player, and the movie came to life on the eight-foot screen before me. I flopped onto the reclining couch.
I made it all of 3 minutes.
It felt like I was being guided into the vestibule of torture. I pretended that I needed to use the restroom, but instead slipped from the basement and hightailed it upstairs—volunteering to make the pizza run for dinner.
I was free. I had escaped the clutches of the dreaded ‘chick flick.’ I breathed in the fresh open air of Hurricane and made the pizza run, while “Sweetness” by Jimmy Eat World thundered in my ears.
It was some time later last night that I found myself again in the home cinema, alone. I perused the selection of movies filling the shelves: Twilight, What a Girl Wants, 27 Dresses, Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, The Perfect Man…the list went on and on. Lines from these movies, like useless confetti thrown out in the parade of nothingness, ran through my mind—those cheesy lines I’d heard girls repeat to each other while on group outings with friends, and those I’d heard yelled out as suggestions while working at ComedySportz .
I think I threw up a little bit in my mouth just then.
What I needed was power. An adrenaline-thrill ride complete with explosions, wanton violence, and car chases—as well as snappy lines delivered at the moment of death. I needed something which was not only visually spectacular, but riddled with adrenaline. In short: pure, unadulterated testosterone.
My eyes fell on a bluish-colored case: X-Men III
Amazing powers? Check.
Fight scenes? Check.
Nonstop action? Check.
Spectacular visual effects? Check.
Totally hot female lead? Check.
Pure Awesomeness? Check.
I put the DVD into the player, and then settled down and prepared myself to be nestled in the warm security of a good old-fashioned thrill ride.
I was not disappointed.