Eat Spaghetti, Fast Forward a Lot, Shack up with Javier Bardem
Last week, The Correctness decided to address a recurring complaint: “You guys never write stuff for women”. This is clearly false, as RobbieRobTown’s regular missives to specific women, and at least one issue of the Casting Couch will demonstrate. However, to be good and fair minded, we decided to address the situation. We looked to some of the biggest movie events aimed at women of the last few years, “Eat Pray Love” and “Sex and the City 2”, and decided to write a review.
I previewed the first 3 minutes of “Sex and the City 2”, and found myself utterly unprepared. RobbieRobTown was in favour of “Eat Pray Love”. I warned him that it would likely contain at least 3 incidences of the Julia Roberts “bellowing laugh”, and that sometimes she’s capable of opening her mouth so wide, you feel compelled to move toward the screen in an attempt to walk into it, but he would not be swayed. And so it was that we sat down, notepads in hand, and began a journey that would last 32 hours. Or at least it seemed that long.
Hope Sandwich: Eat, Pray, Love, Eat again…
She stood in the kitchen, looking out across the expanse of the distant jungle valley as the sun rose. Untold millions of dew drops reflected the red glow of a dawn. Time stopped, and ever so slowly, all of her pain, her hatred, her failures began to evaporate just as the mist in the valley floor did. Through the panoramic windows of her incalculably expensive tropical mountain escape, the light from the sun was reaching her, it felt today, for the first time. Today, there was finally purpose, a reason to go on. For the first time in a decade, she awoke to hope. Hope, a feeling she had come to distrust. Had it not been hope that broken her heart? Had it not been hope that had led her to wait for love to seek her out, and not the other way around?