"Nine"

Movie: "Nine"
Grade: D

I saw the movie "Nine" this afternoon. The whole afternoon turned into an epic failure fiasco--it was raining, and people in LA flip the shit out when it rains. So traffic was ass. Then we had to walk through a bunch of rain to get to Souplantation (a classy dining experience every time) and my whole existence became cold and soggy. And then, to make it worse, we saw "Nine." Here are my angry, frustrated, and mainly just disappointed ramblings.

1. My main overarching issue is how completely anti-feminist and just straight-up (pun intended) backwards the whole thing was. It was just an orgy of strippers all up in Daniel Day Lewis' business, all of them desperate to be sexed by this depraved, depressed, and disgusting (not to mention super greasy) human being. None of them really had real characters or personalities, with the exception of the incredibly classy Dame Judy Dench--but of course, she was playing someone so much older than he that she was the only one who could possibly be immune to his charms. For, as we all know, any woman in the heat of her life (aka, while she has a period) cannot be wise, witty, or willful, and instead must act like a shameless sex-machine, completely unthinking and unable to control her sexual urges for such sexy bad-boys as Mr. Lewis. And I admit, I was peeing during Sofia Lauren's big song (oh diet coke, the things you do to me) so I can't comment on that. But in general, the women had NO PERSONALITY TRAITS AT ALL, except for wanting to have sex with the same dude. Is that what writers think women are really like? Is that how they really think we think, act, behave? Cause if so, boy, do they have another thing coming. Not one of those women was anything other than an object.

2. On a related note, the "dancing" in this film was complete voyeuristic stripping. I don't even understand what was happening, or why the choice was made to make it more of a burlesque than anything else. There were dozens of women whose faces we never see, but are just carriers of sequins, feathers, and breasts. This was a throwback to Busby Berkley, to showgirls of the early cinema, when society barely knew better, and when movies certainly didn't. Those were bad enough, but to have something like that made now, now when we are supposed to at least pretend to be PC, when we have some actual feminist filmmakers and directors out there, is completely inexcusable. If they wanted his fantasy to be a burlesque porno, that's fine, but for Christ's sake, balance that out with some female-centered dances that are about (shocker!) actual dancing ability and female agency, not just another male masturbatory fantasy. Please. Come on, Rob Marshall. You should know better than that.

3. Maybe they didn't have real dancing cause they didn't cast real dancers. Or, for the most part, real singers. I thought the women in the film did their very best, and I really enjoyed some of the performances. But there is a whole world of incredible triple-threats out there, women who could sing and really dance the shit out of those characters, and give them power at least in those arenas, if nowhere else. Some of them should have been cast. Hollywood, I'm glad you're starting to embrace the musical more and more (WHAT UP, GLEE!), but it's never going to work if you care more about big Hollywood names than actually singing and dancing talent. It just isn't. Sorry to burst your bubble.

4. This is a minor point compared to some of the others, but Jesus Fucking Hershl Christ, stop trying to make smoking sexy in movies. It isn't. I don't care that people smoked in the 60s. It wasn't a good idea then and it certainly isn't one now. Just stop showing it. It's gross, you're killing your actors, and making even more kids think it's sexy and cool to do.
SPOILER ALERT: it isn't.

5. Plus, the music was boring.

In all fairness, two other contributing factors to my lack of enjoyment were (a) my pants were wet and soggy and that is my LEAST FAVORITE FEELING IN THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD--it makes me not only freezing and soggy, but also reminds me of high school, thus burdening me with residual emotional pain as well--and (b) some bitch and her stupid friend sat right in front of us in an EMPTY theater. WHAT KIND OF DUCHE MASTER DOES THAT??? I was ready to punch her straight in the ovary.

(I gave the movie a D because I thought in general the acting was good, and it wasn't the worst movie I've ever seen. But I decided halfway through that if it were showing on an airplane, I wouldn't watch it. That's a terrible sign, you gotta admit.)


-- Peace, love, and solidarity --