Our family is fairly into movies and regularly gather to entertain ourselves with the latest Star Wars release or whatever might be in the ropes at the moment. However, there’s been some complaining lately from the youngsters in our house. And yes, I’m ready to admit: watching a movie with me is not always that much fun…
Being a particularly choosy connoisseur, there aren’t too many flicks which pass my critical gaze without comment. My kids know this and moan loudly each time I open my mouth. But forgive me, I just can’t help commenting if some of the following occur:
1) The movie is too artsy-fartsy. You know the kind: loooong sweeping shots over windy fields, coupled with intense staring by main characters and the occasional sigh. To top it all off: gloomy cityscapes or misty harbour views. Zzzz….
2) There are more gun shots than one-liners. Can’t help it – so-called action just makes me want to go to sleep. I mean, how many times can you really kick someone in the head and have them jump up again, not a hair out-of-place? Particular pain is attached if Tom Cruise is involved.
3) A romantic comedy, where the end result is obvious just by looking at the dvd cover. Of course I know that’s the deal with rom-coms, but hey, let’s make at least minimal effort to cover up the thin storyline by introducing more than one contender for the part of first lover. Something along the lines of a) gay friend (possible turnover bisexual) or b) long-lost college crush turning up “unexpectedly” to vow the heroine against all odds… Well, you get the picture: the possibilities are endless – USE THEM.
4) My pet hate: buddy movies. Usually consisting of more or less drunken male brawling, often pre-wedding (because obviously post-wedding all laddish fun automatically dries out, courtesy of boring girlfriend/wife-to-be). The worst ones include some kind of road trip, which offers the intolerable opportunity to introduce more idiotic drunken brawlers along the way, completed with nice long shots of fancy cars which the main characters either own themselves, or would give their left nut to own.
So what’s left, you ask? Not much, and that’s exactly our dilemma. But I’m ever the hopeful. Somewhere, over the rainbow, I’m sure the perfect movie awaits. We’re just not there yet.