Does any movie get more nineties than this one? Saying “after losing his girl to a Real World star, Freddie Prinze Junior does hackey-sack on stage at a slam poetry event” makes me feel so nineties, I just exploded in neon abstracts and skateboarded away listening to ska music.

She’s All That is one of those cultural touchstones for for a generation that I missed out on. I was just a little too young for the movie, and my older sibling didn’t care for it either, so I wasn’t exposed until I spotted it on Netflix. Back in the 00s, the fake-bet-relationship movie we loved was Shakespearean 10 Things I Hate About You.

(Interestingly, 10 Things came out of the same year as She’s All That, sort of like when Antz and A Bug’s Life came out in the same year, or Repo Men and Repo! The Genetic Opera, or Dante’s Peak and Volcano.)

10 Things was an adaptation of Taming of the Shrew, but She’s All That considers itself a Pygmalion story. It cares more about the disparate classes of the heroine and hero than the heroine’s difficult personality. Freddie Prinze Jr’s character is both prince and fairy godmother; his belief in Laney helps make her transform into the princess version of herself. In the end, Laney remarks that she feels like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman (but not a sex worker), which means she’s talking about the Pygmalion elements.

The movie is telling us what it means to be about, and I think that’s interesting because it’s not really the impact. The actual impact on culture for She’s All That was becoming iconic for the ugly-girl-turns-hot trope. You know, when we pretend a normal- or hot-looking woman is ugly/unattractive/undesirable because of her hair and glasses.

I hadn’t seen this movie before, but I saw the parody in Not Another Teen Movie. So I was surprised that She’s All That *wasn’t* the worst iteration of the trope. Laney has been struggling with low self-esteem, congested creativity, and sometimes insults herself out loud. Darling young Anna Paquin acknowledges that post-makeover Laney isn’t really improved, just different.

The actual change isn’t a haircut, contact lenses, and higher contrast makeup. It’s Laney deciding to participate in the world.

In fact, it’s a lot like the execution of the same trope with Toula in My Big Fat Greek Wedding. It’s not that Toula wasn’t hot before. She just believed her family calling her some dowdy old woman and put herself out to pasture. Laney has put herself out to pasture because of grief.

The heartfelt element of Laney’s journey is probably why She’s All That originally resonated with audiences. Freddie Prinze Junior is a pitch-perfect pining hero, too.

Including a dance scene from Matthew Lillard and prom choreography echoing West Side Story adds just enough camp to keep disbelief suspended. This was really a nice mix of sincere and silly, plus some 90s gross-out humor I couldn’t handle in the era and still kinda don’t love.

Don’t look away when they’re in the cafeteria. This movie was shot at Torrance High School, the same school used in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Sarah Michelle Gellar makes an appearance in costume as Buffy the Vampire Slayer. SMG doesn’t just share fictional high schools with the movie, either. She’s still married to Freddie Prinze Junior. Awww. That means Buffy gets pining love eyes from Zack Siler to this day. <3

(image source: Miramax Films)

Dear Rory,

I finally came up with a pitch for reviewing our favorite Christmas movie, Die Hard.

Like I totally agree, there’s no point trying to give a traditional review to Die Hard. I don’t think I can come up with a better way to explain it than you did. Whatever interesting 1980s class commentary might happen irt blue collar figures versus the globalist corporate entity is super-numbed by the fact that cops don’t belong in the labor movement ever, at all, period. And I don’t think we’re at the point where we’re ready to tackle The Die Hard Problem (movies and TV making Black actors the face of the justice system to avoid engaging with the racial dynamics of our carceral system). That takes away a whole lotta more-substantial commentary on the flick. Maybe when I start watching 80s action movies?

Anyhoodles, yes, the copaganda is way beyond the scope of this review, so I was thinking I should just treat it like it’s any other holiday romcom.

I know what you’re thinking. People are bored of arguing about whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie.

But are they bored of talking about Die Hard as a Christmas Romcom?

The argument here isn’t, “Is it a Christmas romcom?” but rather, “Who’s the romantic pairing?” Right? I think that’s the argument for our review.

Let me take a whack the pros and cons of each potential romantic hero for our central heroine, John McClane. (Obv he’d be the heroine; he’s kind of a manic pixie copboy who likes to frolic barefoot through the park broken glass.)

Holly Gennaro: This is the second most obvious romantic hero for John. Holly’s his ex, and a lot of people love ex reunion stories. There are cute kids involved. Bringing a family back together is such a nice hopeful visual for the ending. Plus, Holly has to realize that John being a *massive* pain in the ass is endearing when it’s aimed at a villain, which is romantic character growth if I’ve ever heard it. Also, Bonnie Bedelia is sooo smokin.

Sgt. Al Powell: The physically distant but emotionally intimate relationship between Al and John is reminiscent of classics like You’ve Got Mail, Serendipity, Your Place Or Mine, and The Holiday. They love each other long before they’ve ever locked eyes. John and Al are smooching atop the thin blue line. It’s romantic?

Hans Gruber: My personal favorite and the most obvious pairing. As with Rock Hudson and Doris Day, we love seeing a couple with spicy chemistry. Entire romcoms are built on a couple arguing with each other. Nobody argues like Hans and John. The way they lob quips back and forth between each other is basically foreplay. Their playful banter once they finally meet blows the top off the building. Plus, dreamy Alan Rickman has a history being Austen heroes, so he’s got the chops to sweep a giggling John off his bloody feet.

What do you think? People are going to love it if I write a review like this, right? I really think I’ve stumbled onto something genius here.

Hope you’re having a great time six feet away from me, which I could know if I spoke to you instead of sending this email.

Love, Sara

(image credit: 20th Century Studios)

Hey, nonny nonny!

Herein lay a review for another Shakespeare adaptation starring our good noble Denzel Washington, looking even hotter than he does in The Tragedy of Macbeth. My God, man. You’d think the purring voice alone would be all the hotness that could reside within a single man’s body. Then he’s running around the countryside, riding on a horse, bouncing around with his mantitties inside that vee neck, and I’m just like. My God. Lord Denzel. (Prince Denzel?)

Bear in mind that I didn’t do any research to make sure I have details about the play or movie remotely correct, and I don’t care, so please don’t correct me.

There are several plays by Shakespeare that I know very well. I performed a small part in A Midsummer Night’s Dream as a teen. I’ve written a lesbian vampires adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. The Scottish Play is another favorite, and so is Taming of the Shrew. But Much Ado About Nothing is a blank for me. I’ve seen it performed live–once–when I was a kid–but that’s it.

Anyway, as far as I can tell, this is Shakespeare’s Silly Bitches Play for Bitches Acting Silly. Literally, there is much ado about absolutely nothing, and we love every minute of it.

Like there’s something about Emma Thompson arguing with a bearded guy. I don’t know, I couldn’t look at any man when she was on screen.

I’ve got mixed feelings about Emma Thompson sometimes. She did this whole odd former-Yugoslavian accent thing for Last Christmas, which is my most recent exposure, and…I did not know what to think about that. Here, I realized I wasn’t enamored with her delivery either, but…

Goodness. That smile. The way she just sort of flows everywhere in those gorgeous dresses, with her hair, and my lesbianness.

wait oh my GOD is that KATE BECKINSALE?

I got all the way through the movie once without realizing who it was. I saw her name in the credits, then completely forgot she was meant to be there. I couldn’t pin the young actress’s look down. I’m bad at faces. I was like, “For one thing, it’s definitely NOT Mia Sara.”

Since looking things up didn’t sound interesting, I just kept staring at this gorgeous young lady thinking, “Oh, she’s so pretty. I wonder what she’s doing these days? Is she still acting?”

It’s KATE BECKINSALE, Sara! I just liked a more recent movie of hers! And I’m pretty sure I swore fealty to Selene the first time I ever watched Underworld!

The number of times I have dreamed about this actress (as a character) drinking my blood is making me have such deep thoughts about the adorable young woman to blood drinking vampire milf pipeline. Like, if I had a nickel every time–

Okay, so I’m reviewing a movie, right?

Well, it’s a straightforward adaptation of the Shakespeare Silly Bitches Show, translated quite literally, with a sorta ambiguously historical setting and lots of Italians (?) speaking in English accents, or like Denzel Washington. If you don’t enjoy watching it, then you probably just don’t like watching Kenneth Branagh’s vacation videos. Obviously this whole thing was a ruse for hot talented people to giggle in a beautiful place wearing pretty dresses.

Or wearing…not dresses.

I didn’t find the movie especially interesting on most levels. It doesn’t have anything to add to the core play, as far as I can tell, except for the sheer vivacity of beautiful actors.

So obviously it was a *great* movie and I highly recommend it completely on artistic merits.

The first time I watched Falling for Christmas, I was surprised to enjoy such a corny Lindsay Lohan Christmas comedy. Since I’ve spent this year watching a whole breadth of comedies, I’m not surprised anymore.

Honestly? The setup is easy to dismiss if you are around Lohan’s age and kinda cringed away from the public nature of her meltdown. Plus, culture in the time when Lohan and I were young is notoriously mean. Most of us had to come on a journey to accept movies with sincere messages after growing up on the sarcasm and apologetic self-effacement of the 00s. And some of us particularly immature kids needed to realize public meltdowns deserve sympathy and privacy and a thousand opportunities to try again, not tabloid snark. (Sorry Lindsay. I wasn’t cool.)

Sincere Christmas romance with Lindsay Lohan pings a lot of my primal “ugh, eye roll” nerves, is what I’m saying, so I guess Falling for Christmas had to sneak up on me in order to earn my love. That’s my fault, not yours, Hallmark-like romance genre.

Yes, it’s corny, but let’s put that at the forefront: Holidays are a good time to tell corny stories about falling in love.

Once you accept corny as a feature instead of a bug, there is nothing about Falling for Christmas left to dismiss. The more obvious special effects are funny. The performances are sometimes cartoonish but always earnest. There are some decent needle drops with songs I don’t recognize, but possess exactly the right amount of drama for the hero to gaze after the heroine with tears shimmering in his eyes.

Even the hero won me over. This is one of the dearest romance heroes, and you know I hate boys. He’s a daddy, and a little bit of a Daddy, and he brings his GAZING INTENSELY gaze with the best of them.

The part is appropriate for Lohan’s skills, warmly, and she does such a cute job transforming from bratty heiress to amnesiac flannel mommy.

It’s got the trope I love where they fall in love with one another’s families (mostly Lohan falling for his family).

Lohan’s ex goes into the wilderness and falls in love with a bear poacher. No, not a poacher who kills bears. A poacher who is a bear.

Plus, there is a so-magical-he-almost-seems-scary leering Santa Claus disguised as a strangely intense old man, and I love this EVERY TIME.

THERE’S A SILLY CREDIT BLOOPERS SEQUENCE!

Basically this is exactly what you’d expect, and if you like the tropes, you’ll love this. It’s a good execution of well-trod small town holiday warmth and YEAH I’m probably just going to give it a higher rating every year I watch it, even though my inner sarcastic teenager thinks I’ve grown up *so lame*.

(Image credit: Netflix)

God, I am fighting with my urge to shit talk this movie right now. It’s lovely. It’s fine! It’s cute and Christmasy. Emilia Clarke radiates. Michelle Yeoh was showing her comedy chops before the world noticed her comedy chops. It has a nice message. It’s a romcom without wealth centered, which I always want.

Don’t shit talk the movie, Sara. It’s so nice.

~

Okay, first of all, I have seen Emilia Clarke play three (3) roles where men are fridged for her character development.

On one hand, nice. Way to be. Writers don’t fridge men nearly enough for the sake of a woman’s development.

On the other hand, two of these male characters weren’t played by white actors (Henry Golding here and Jason Momoa on Game of Thrones) and in the third (Me Before You) the hero’s disability is central to the story/identity.

I can’t get excited about misandry when it’s all…weird.

(Are you telling me I shouldn’t *ever* get excited about misandry? *Weird*.)

I think it would balance out if Emilia Clarke fridged four perfectly healthy white guys for her character development. Hey casting directors, agent, whoever needs to make this happen—could she like, fridge Chalamet or something?

~

Henry Golding shows up to look perfect and shiny and handsomely fix all of her problems. He is wisdom, he is grace, he is romantic but sexually nonthreatening. He’s been inside Emilia Clarke for a year and she didn’t have a clue until he appeared to deliver his Christmas message. “What if you DIDN’T drink our heart to death?”

Is it a happily ever after if they’ll be together for as long as this transplant holds out?

~

It’s really cute though! It ticks the boxes I want ticked for a romcom…almost completely.

There is a strong message about hope.

It’s also, critically, mostly about the woman (boys are gross).

Love heals! Love wins!

We have adorable secondary romance, there is suggestion of a better future for our heroine, the family is important.

It’s just.

Okay.

I really don’t want anyone in the relationship to be dead. Okay???

~

Is Ghost a romcom?

Is an ending happy if we know the ghost gets what he wants and the woman moves on happily?

There is a lot to be said in defense of grief as an element of both Christmas movies and romances. In a long life, we should all be so lucky as to lose a great many loves, and grief is an ongoing process that accumulates as the years accrue.

Grief feels very much like love. It’s the hurting side of love—love that is lost and wandering.

Not all horror movies scare us; sometimes they’re just exciting. Not all romcoms have to make everything better; love can be intermingled with sadness, and that is healing for a lot of people.

I can say these things rationally, nodding along with myself as I type.

“Yes, of course, there’s no reason why Henry Golding shouldn’t be dead in this romcom,” I say reasonably.

And yet.

~

I like what I like and what I don’t like is this. At least, not on the first watch. I can imagine why other people might like it, but my grudge for the concept is strong, and I just didn’t enjoy watching it.

Part of the issue for me is probably the issue that attracted Emilia Clarke to the role. She’s got severe chronic health issues. A heroine with complicated medical trauma might be compelling for an actress who has had plenty her own.

For me, it’s more repelling. The song “Last Christmas” goes from being a happy romp to a haunting story literally about organs. I’m sitting around wondering if the movie when the movie is going to dump hospital scenes on me so I feel awful. Maybe I should have watched the movie in my therapist’s office?

~

Oh, but it’s so cute. I don’t think there’s anything *wrong* with it.

I really need my romantic couple to survive, though. Or I need a lot more fantasy/goth type elements to make the dying bit hot instead of sad. I don’t know! This isn’t hot. I just feel sad.

And personal preference isn’t any reason to shit talk a perfectly lovely movie.

Don’t shit talk the nice movie, Sara. Just give it three stars and move on.