Like Dylan at the movies

First things first. Yes, I have seen Legally Blonde. That question was raised anonymously (though I've a sneaking suspicion who was asking) in the comments section of my previous post; the tone of the inquiry implying that I would find Ms. Woods exploits somehow unworthy of my hard-earned dollar and time. Furthermore, most would probably suspect that any admission of viewing said movie would be accompanied with a half-hearted excuse that I really had no choice, i.e. it's on pretty much weekly (which it is) or I was forced to watch it for God and country (which I wasn't).

No, the truth is far more basic: I like Reese Witherspoon. Ever since Election (still the best thing she's done), I've always had a soft spot for her. Not so much that any screen time for her is mandatory viewing for me however dreadful the movie, mind. If nothing much is going on and the movie looks decent enough, then why not?

However, the first Legally Blonde sated my appetite for the Elle Woods saga. It may be surprising but after it was all over I really didn't have any lingering questions regarding Elle, Bruiser or anyone else found therein. It's not that I didn't care, well, actually it is. Obviously I was in the minority. Though the sequel's producers sweetened the pot with the always welcome Bob Newhart, I have thus far stood my ground because we all have to take stands, however unpopular.

Speaking of movies, since it was Saturday night and there was really nothing much else to do, Marisol and I decided the movies was as good a place to be as any. Like going to the vet the other day, this was also a good idea since everyone else decided to take some Hollywood magic. Lucky us. Since there was nothing in particular we wanted to see and time was tight, we were somewhat restricted in our choices. Fearing the 3-hour, Brad Pitt snoozer, Benjamin Button, was our only option, I was relieved when Marisol reminded she had already seen it. Phew. But since we were hell bent and determined to see something,anything that left Paul Blart, Mall Cop to entertain or at least pass the time.

Even though the flick had started five minutes previously, I had a hunch that we could still pick up on any plot intricacies. Yes, I have great expectations. Plus, I figured since the theater would most likely be totally empty we could yell at each other from opposite sides of the room about how comfy our seats were. That's always great fun. To my surprise the theater was packed but we did manage to find two seats together smack dab in the middle and only had to step over 6 people to get there.

As with Legally Blonde, I'm guessing this is about the point where most readers hereof will settle in expecting a far too lengthy, snide discourse on all thing wrong with the movie. Prepare to be disappointed: it was decent enough.

That's not to say that it's headed for my all-time top 10; heck, it's not even the best movie I saw last week. For what it was and what it set out to do, however, it was fine. That is to say it was admittedly silly and for the most part a curse-free, family film. Cinephile that I am, I'm not of the opinion that every movie has to make some grand statement on the human condition or stretch the possibilities of cinema. Sometimes explosions and a running man on fire is just cool. Not to me, mind, but the point remains the same. So to speak. Frankly, most people just want to go to the movies to forget their problems for a bit and be entertained. A valid sentiment to which, I hasten to add, I completely agree.

My problem with most of the movies Hollywood produces is that they are less than honest about what they are. A movie like Paul Blart, knows it's a lightweight family film and tries to be nothing else, firmly adhering to the John Belushi/Chris Farley mantra of, "Fat man fall down make funny." No annoying irony or winking nods. Go in, hopefully laugh, go home. Yes, some of the jokes could have been stronger and the idea of gymnastic mall-robbers, even for a movie of this type, is pushing it, but the audience seemed to enjoy it and even this comedy snob chuckled occasionally.

Unlike all those gawful flicks that seem to showcase the current disposable stud (usually a Wilson brother) and the current disposable heroine (usually Kate Hudson or yes, even dear Reese) and that seem to serve no purpose other than to reflect how stupid Hollywood actually thinks we are. You know, the mismatched pair who can't stand each other but over the course of several unrealistic 'realistic' circumstances decide they can't live without the other. There's much hilarity and some life lessons ensue, and it's all executed with a knowing, condescending tone: this is dreck, we know it's dreck but you'll go see it because we're making it. You love us. Admit it. Essentially, the movies as a study in the cult of personality.

Of course, I'm probably just partial to Mall Cop because Paul Blart was an ugly dude who ultimately gets the cute girl. Sorry for ruining the ending.