The Season of Schlock

“We all need illusions, that’s why we love movies.”

---Monica Bellucci

When you walk into a movie theater there is something magical about that environment. Whether it’s a multiplex at a mall or a local theater, the combination of the smell of hot popcorn, smothered in some chemical oil that’s probably deadly, the squishy lump of smashed Junior Mints on scratchy polyester seats, and that feeling of anticipation as the lights go down is why people are still willing to pay $15 bucks to see a movie. It’s the whole experience.

Things have changed a lot however. The first movie I remember going to was a drive-in. It was a huge treat for our family. My dad took my brother and I, and my mom got to stay home, unburdened by screaming kids and a hungry husband. My father, always in search of a snack, let us have popcorn, candy, and soda and then got us ice cream on the way home. Not long after climbing into my upper bunk bed, I was hanging over the side puking on my brother. It’s been a family legend for years. Hurl on a sibling just once, and they never let you forget it.

Movies are still a fun outing for me, but honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve gone to the theater and seen something. I always mean to, especially when I pass by the Warwick and see the coming attractions and times on the sign. Somehow, though, there never seems to be the time; I need work on that. What there is time for, however, is bingeing movies online.  I need some kind of video Valium the background while when I’m working, it helps me focus. 

Since the holidays are approaching, many of my friends are eagerly awaiting what I call “The Season of Schlock.” I get that Lifetime, Oxygen, Hallmark and others put out Christmas movies around now and, #SorryNotSorry it must be said: some of these movies are just awful.

Seriously there should be a drinking game to make up a plot for these. Essentially, most of them are some variant of an abused or otherwise traumatized woman arriving in a small town where she knows no one and trusts no one. She can magically survive and pay all her bills by working part-time at the local diner that gets six customers a week. One of whom is a local rancher, who is often lost in thought and doesn’t say much. She and the rancher fall in love over both being lonely at Christmas (insert flashback of holiday related past trauma) and in a holiday miracle, the rancher is revealed as a multi-millionaire who whisks Diner girl off to his palatial “farmhouse” to raise orphaned ponies. The end. Change a few details, insert a lost child or a natural disaster and you have six more movies just like it. The networks wouldn’t keep making these movies if they didn’t pay off, but maybe there’s some gene missing in my DNA because they’re not my cup of cocoa?

The concept of escapism in movies is valid. Sure, we all want to watch something that makes us feel we could be someone else for a couple of hours. For me, however, the magical movie fantasy doesn’t involve a small town, mountain cabins, or working in a diner. I’ve been lucky; I’ve already gotten to do that. I want to watch a movie where the writing leaps off the screen it’s so well done. Where the actors get each nuance of their character exactly right. Where the locations are real and not just some soundstage.

 It’s not a snob thing; plenty of my favorite movies are light hearted and not really “deep” at all. Example? 

The Birdcage. One of the best movies ever made because it has slapstick, politics, love, family, and drag queens. What more could you want? Oh, Pierce Brosnan, my secret boyfriend. He’s not in that one, but I’ll watch any movie he’s ever in, silly or serious. I’d pay $15 to watch him tie his shoes. He doesn’t need to speed around in an Aston Martin or steal a painting, or sing…wait, alright, I got a little off-track there.

So, yes, I can see why in the midst of the holiday stress, these movies are pretty popular. Don’t we all just want to zone out every now and then? Just don’t look at me like I’m some disgrace to the sisterhood for not hopping on the movie of the week bandwagon. Mind candy is completely fine, we all need it. I’ll pass on the candy cane cinema, but if anyone wants to have a James Bond binge party, let me know!

Snarky is as snarky does

"Sarcasm helps me overcome the harshness of the reality we live, eases the pain of scars and makes people smile

------Mahmoud Darwish

My mother said to me, more times than I can count, "You think you're so smart, with the wisecracks, just you wait and see." OK, Ma, I'm still waiting, what is it I'm supposed to see? She said that so often I was convinced that something monumental was going to happen.  I was really hoping it was going to be a magical unicorn or maybe Pierce Brosnan would finally realize we were meant for each other. She was right about the wisecracks though. 

(Pierce, kissing someone who isn't me)

Truly, I'm pretty sure I need one of those six-second delay features they have on some radio stations. It's completely organic; sometimes there is just no way to keep what's inside my head from coming out in a storm of snappy comebacks. English isn't my first language, sarcasm is and it's been that way my whole life. The Girl Scouts said I was rude, and they were right because when the leader asked me why I hadn't sold very many boxes of cookies, my answer was truthful, but perhaps not very polite. "I didn't sell very many because you can get a box of Oreos that's twice as big and costs half as much, who's going to be stupid enough to want Trefoils when they could have Oreos?" I didn't last long as a Girl Scout, shocking, huh?

Now that I'm an adult, it could be said that I've mellowed and left the sarcasm behind.  Whoever says that is lying; it's not even remotely true. I have tried, very hard, to at least not be rude (mostly) but the wisecracks are still coming. For me, these little gems are like the valves on a pressure cooker; they have to work or the whole thing explodes. There's a school of thought that says before we speak, we should ask ourselves if what we are about to say is true, kind, and necessary. Well, I don't lie, mostly because I'm very bad at it. Kindness matters to me a great deal, but no one is perfect, and sometimes I'm not very nice. Necessary? This is where you lose me. If every word ever spoken by me had to meet all three of those criteria, I'd barely talk at all and this column would be empty. There are probably more than a few people that think that would be a good thing, but they can kiss my…ok, never mind, this is a family paper.

Snarky is one of those words that sounds exactly like what it means and this is true of me as well. What you see, is what you get. So, while it will not come as a galloping shock to anyone who knows me, I'm snarky and that's never going to change. Why? Because, especially lately, there's been some serious crap hitting the fan, in my life, but more importantly the world around me. Without getting political, let's just say that between newscasts full of over-entitled behavior by those who should know better, and people who seemed to have everything but were in so much pain they literally checked out of life, I've had it. It's just so overwhelming sometimes. Blowing off a little steam by hoisting my snark flag high and letting it fly is just about the only way I'm going to get through a tough day without winding up in an orange jumpsuit. There's only so much badminton I can play, there are only so many birds I can whack the crap out of before my arm falls off. It's the same with this crazy world we're living in, my patience (which has never been something I'm known for) is wearing thin. I'm talking back to the television way too much and guess what? No one that's on it is listening to me. If I toss a few snotty remarks around now and then, well, at least my friends and family know it's just me being me. They are also the first ones to call me out when that line we shouldn't cross comes up behind me.

There's a lot going on now, and so much of it heart-wrenching and sad and phenomenally atrocious. If I'm rolling my eyes because the person in front of me at the grocery store is playing some complicated game of Tetris with her produce on the conveyor belt and then has to unfold her reusable bags from the origami animals she'd made them into because she saw it on Pinterest, you can bet it's because I'm trying to ignore the news on some of the magazine covers. I'm also going to think to myself, "If this chick pulls out a checkbook to pay, I'm going to bounce a can of Spaghetti-Os right off her skull."  My challenge is to not actually say it in my out loud voice. No promises though. It's tough out there, I'm doing the best I can.