Thursday, January 3, 2008

That's a Stupid Name

There's a whole set of male actors that I love. Why male? I don't know. That might require a whole level of personal introspection that I'm not prepared to make at this moment. But these actors, I'd watch just about anything if they were in it. I think I mentioned Brad Pitt before. Would I have sex with these actors? I don't know. Maybe. If they asked nicely. I don't think that makes me gay. A partial list might include Morgan Freeman. Ben Kingsley. Bruce Willis. Josh Hartnett. I know, I know. I don't know why on the last one either. It must be the hair, carefully coiffed to look like he just tousled it carelessly before walking out the door.

Maybe you can see where this is going. My Netflix list, as I've mentioned, is unnecessarily long. It takes so long for a movie to rise to the top that when it arrives, I no longer remember anything about the movie, like why I picked it or what it's about. This week, Lucky Number Slevin showed up in our mailbox.

Mrs. Rodius, from the beginning, was unaccountably offended by the title. "That's a stupid name," she said. I think she felt that the name of the character of Slevin was contrived such that it would rhyme with "seven" and thus provide a clever twist on the familiar phrase, "Lucky number seven." She may have had a point. It's not until the 17th Google hit that Slevin becomes an actual name unrelated to the movie. But, whatever. I'd watch it.

Now, our Netflix queue is occasionally a point of contention. Mrs. Rodius has neither the time nor the patience to spend adding movies that she's interested in, so she has little other choice, besides finding something else to do, than to sit through the schlock that I pick. Sometimes even I am dismayed by the choices I made when they, after a long, long cooling off period, arrive in our mailbox.

"Why did you pick this?" she asks. I can only admit I haven't a clue.

Mrs. Rodius made it clear whenever she saw a commercial for Lucky Number Slevin, throughout the theatrical run and again after the DVD release, that she was not interested. She was irredeemably disgusted by the title.

Beware: here there be spoilers.

But I remember seeing the trailers and thinking it was right up my alley. Morgan Freeman. Bruce Willis. Some sort of semi-comic gangster movie? Maybe? I don't know. Whatever. I'd watch it. Maybe not one of those rare, willing-to-pay-an-ungodly-amount-of-money-to-see-it-in-the-theater-I-mean-four-bucks-for-a-soda-you-gotta-be-kidding-me kind of movies, but yeah, I'd watch that.

So this week, we did. Finally. The verdict? Eh. It was all right. I wanted to like it; I really did. But I was distracted by the many instances of horrible wallpaper. And the intentionally concealed plot elements through the first half of the movie made me feel like I was drunk and too embarrassed to admit that I had no idea what was going on.

In the end, all is explained except the wallpaper, and I didn't feel quite so drunk. We find out, too, that the hero with the perfectly tousled hair didn't really let his love die, innocent and insignificant collateral damage in his lifelong Count of Monte Cristo-style vengeance plot. So it can end as the semi-comic gangster/love story it seemed to be before it suddenly went all medieval on our asses. (By the way, that's a reference to Pulp Fiction, Mom.)

So will I learn from this experience and become more selective in my use of the Netflix queue? No, I will not. I will continue to add movies just because I like the people that are in them. Like Christian Bale. And Russell Crowe. Maybe you can see where this is going. Stop by again in six months for a disappointed review of 3:10 to Yuma.


Tracey R. said...

This made me laugh on so many levels.

Rich and I get in Netflix disagreements also. We have the "3 at a time" agreement, where I control 1 list, the kids have 1 list, and he has 1 list. He watched everything on my list (because he's a movie slut), but then has his list of action and horror that I have no interest in.

It sounds like there should be no fighting over Netflix, right? Right. Except that I have access to his list and get impatient at actually having to wait a night or two when we're in the middle of a good series (like Big Love, season 2 right now) and so I go into HIS list and rearrange his list. And he will bitch and moan but knows better than to go in and 1. mess with MY list or 2. even put his list back.

I hold the power, if you haven't noticed.

Oh, and I would totally have sex with Claire Danes. But I don't think that makes me a lesbian.

anniemcq said...

My list of people that I would watch read the phone book includes:
George Clooney (natch)
Steve Zahn
Sam Rockwell
Jeff Goldblum
Emma Thompson
Sigourney Weaver

Does that make me just a wittow bit bi?

Purelight said...

You young whippersnappers are all nuts, but I gotta luv ya. And don't think your little enlightenments are not appreciated, son. I need all the help I can get! Oh, my list would include Denzel Washington, plus almost any guy who is completely, sleekly, shiningly BALD. Wonder what that makes me.
Love from PureLight (one time blogger who has retired).

I, Rodius said...

You have your own Netflix queue? And you STILL mess with his? He really is a saint...

I'd do Claire Danes, too. Does that make me a lesbian?

I could go with George and Jeff. Steve and Sam might be second string. And Emma Thompson jumped up a bit in my estimation after playing Professor Trelawney.

Denzel's on the list. Did you see Glory? I believe he's shiningly bald in that one. And I do try to help you out with all my random allusions, as you're just not as plugged into the popular culture as every good American should be. You have other fine qualities, though.

Love ya!

anniemcq said...

That's okay Rodius, you can save Steve for me. He's my boyfriend.

And, Purelight.. just for you:
Patrick Stewart

PureLight said...

YES, anniemcq, I'll definitely take Patrick Stewart! Thanks for having my best interests at heart.

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