Notting Hill is one of the more charming, off-beat romcoms of the 90s, focusing on acting greats Rhys Ifans and Emma Chambers as they fall in love.

Surely you already know household name Rhys Ifans, whether in his performance as Sherlock’s brother on Elementary (when he was a lazy but sophisticated man of the world) or when he was the villainous enemy on House of the Dragon. He really shows off his range.

In this role, Ifans is a dodgy Welsh guy who lives in a Notting Hill flat. He wants love, but he’s not sure how to approach it. Clearly without social skills, including no sense of appropriate dresswear, Ifans has found himself a bit of an outsider. Much of his socialization comes from a flatmate who owns a bookstore, and Hugh Grant’s mumblingly incoherent character seems to tolerate Ifans at best.

Still, it’s impossible not to fall in love with a hero who is so unabashedly himself. He doesn’t hesitate to wear a scuba suit if that’s all he’s got. When he finds himself unexpectedly in front of cameras wearing nothing but pants, it’s not a moment of shame, but a moment of self-celebration. Try not to swoon when he playfully clenches his buttcheeks.

As his opposite, we have Chambers as Honey, the adorable sister to the bookseller flatmate. Her distinctive features are played up for effect and everyone acts like she’s odd-looking in comparison to other people, rather than just looking like a normal human. Pronounced eyes (exophthalamus) and brittle hair might be indicative of a thyroid disease, but everyone just sorta treats her as a weird lil uggo.

It’s easy to judge Honey. Much like Ifans, Chambers’s character is socially inappropriate. She’s got no boundaries meeting a prospective sister-in-law the first time and seems to have lost the filter between her brain and mouth.

Real love often involves meeting people exactly where they are, which Chambers and Ifans do here, falling in love over the course of some random six-month depression that Grant’s character sustains. By the end of the movie, I’m cheering for Chambers to subtly shoot a marriage proposal at the dinner table to Ifans: the celebration of love over human mediocrity.

For the dodgy-looking weirdos out there, this is one of the most loving romcoms possible.

Oh there’s an A-plot as well. Actress, shopkeeper. They are very attractive. I want to make them kiss like dolls.

But mostly the Rhys Ifans stuff.

I loved Nimona, which is essentially a trans narrative. Gorgeous movie for a lot of reasons, not least of all the animation.

It’s striking how well Nimona captured one particular thing I don’t often see in media: How our allies/friends can hurt us so deeply and stand to reinforce the systems that abuse us all.

Bal is our hero, and Nimona’s friend, yet he is also in several of Nimona’s flashbacks when she’s melting down over folks being cruel to her.

At one point Bal says (to paraphrase) “Of course I’M not like this but I’m just helping teach you what the world is like.”

I think about that sentiment a LOT. Because in that moment, Bal is ‘the world.’ He is the person reinforcing the bias against Nimona, trying to bang her into shape to escape embarrassment and oppression. Bal is her greatest ally in the movie and he’s also the one we see who most often expresses transphobic (monsterphobic) sentiments to her face.

I think about all the teachers (and adults in general) who abused me because they said, “I don’t think this way, but I have to get you ready for the world.” Those teachers were the world. They banged me up way more than most anyone else. And they did it under the guise of helping me. Being allies.

Nimona has left me shooketh and this particular thread is the main reason.

I have been this Bad Ally to people. I have been Bal, unintentionally passing on the system’s abuse. I have been Nimona, abused by allies who consider themselves my friend.

(Posted on my Letterboxd 06 Jul 2023.)
(Image credit: Netflix.)

Venom: Let There Be Carnage is not a well-written movie where decisions the characters make have an impact on the outcome of the conflicts they face. Rather, it’s a movie where a filmmaker was allowed to do whatever he wanted as long as the result involved Black Alien and Red Alien fighting each other, and the filmmaker said to himself “whatever I want is real freakin gay.”

Eddie Brock is still living with his alien symbiote after the events of the first movie. They seem to have reached an uncomfortable, sweaty equilibrium, where Eddie is once again working at his job despite constant bickering with Venom. They can’t agree on anything.

Now that Eddie and Venom have gotten past the exciting hookup part of the relationship, Venom still wants to be a party gay wearing light-up jewelry at a college rave, while Eddie wants to be a domestic gay. “Just shut up and be my wifey,” says Eddie. But nay, Venom must party and eat heads. Worse, Eddie doesn’t acknowledge how tenderly Venom cares for him, already fulfilling his role as wifey without appreciation.

Needless to say, they break up. It’s a loud, messy process that victimizes Eddie’s motorcycle and leads to Venom’s many casual hookups with other hosts. But no host is as good as Eddie. The other ones keep dropping dead.

While they’re apart, the movie doesn’t really show that they’re better or worse for the absence. Venom gets to enjoy himself. Eddie gets to focus on his job. But gosh, they miss each other, so they hook back up in a heartbeat once Carnage provides a reason* and Eddie begs thoroughly. Briefly, Eddie and Venom’s ex-girlfriend joins them in another threesome, and she concedes she might do it again because it’s awesome.

* Carnage’s “plot” is “actor chews scenery while Carnage’s girlfriend Shriek enthuses about dating tentacles.”

Red and Black Alien fight each other once peril is appropriately established because of plotty stuffy reasons, serial killing Woody Harrelson, idk. The reason Black Alien succeeds is, apparently, because Eddie and Venom are meant to be, whereas Cletus and Carnage are not. (As proven by Carnage trying repeatedly to kill Shriek.)

Once the Good Gay Couple wins by eating the Bad Gay Couple, Eddie and Venom reach a happy medium in their relationship. They become Vacation Gays together and retire to a beach where Venom finally admits he’s been in love with Eddie the whole time.

Why did I love this movie? Because everything I wrote above is completely true. I can add no other commentary. Andy Serkis et al had a plan and that plan was real freakin gay and I’m happy I got to watch it.

(This review was originally posted on Letterboxd on 17 January 2022.)

(image credit: Sony Pictures)

If you’ve been aware of my existence for longer than five minutes, you know I’m a useless sapphic; if you’ve ever seen The Sweetest Thing, you know I’m going to complain that this isn’t a romcom where the best friends end up together. Christina Applegate and Cameron Diaz have the chemistry of two “straight” girls who are actually perfect for each other, madly in love, incessantly homoerotic, and I’m supposed to believe either of them have any need for men.

(Selma Blair can’t end up with Applegate or Diaz because she needs to end up with me.)

This movie has so much of this blessed trio frolicking around in states of partial dress, or no dress at all, and I just sort of sat around drooling and having zero thoughts. I’m convinced the volume of boobies was intended to disable people like me from having a single critical thought. Or a coherent thought, for that matter. Boobs.

~

By the way, I am a feminist.

~

In “The Sweetest Thing,” we spend a whole lot of time at a straight people breeding ground, which is the brightest, cleanest, quietest night club you’ve ever seen.

Here, we may observe heterosexual mating habits. Predatory behavior is observed in both genders, wherein gender is presumed to correlate closely to conformation of genitalia, and sexual dimorphism is high. Females of the species dress in flamboyant colors with dropped waists, tunic shirts, and weird big jewelry. Males of the species wear garish veneers and spare jewelry (wrist watches, chain necklaces) to indicate the wealth.

Interactions between prospective mates primarily occur on the dance floor and near the bar. Only in this communally gendered region are social interactions considered to have a sexual charge. Behavior in bathrooms cannot have sexual connotation, as demonstrated by the scene with many women fondling Christina Applegate’s breasts by the sinks. Like, am I, an innocent cinema anthropologist, supposed to be *not* gay about that?

The assertion that same-gender sexuality is intended for the consumption of men may be inferred by the fact that Applegate only turns a suggestive situation with Diaz sexual when observed by a man. As with the metaphoric tree falling unobserved in a forest, can one woman’s face in another woman’s lap truly be gay if there is no man to have a boner about it?

~

I love a good screwball comedy, honestly, and The Sweetest THing is a raunchy screwball sex comedy of the highest order. There is a romance, and it’s a comedy, so I suppose it’s also a raunchy screwball romcom. But the rom is the most boring part of it. My enjoyment peaked when something weird and gross was happening because my sibling and I got to shout at the TV. “No! Don’t scratch it! DON’T TASTE IT!”

Comedy is a communal experience, and this movie was meant to be seen in a group of your own dumbass friends. Which of your friends would drive three and a half hours in her underwear in case she might hook you up with the love of your life? If you know that girl, watch this movie with her.

The actresses deliver hilarious performances with outstanding chemistry. It’s gross and weird and genuinely sweet. Also, boobies.

~

On a tangential note, it seems like every new-to-me movie I’ve loved lately got terrible reviews in its time. What’s up with that? Is my taste that bad? Have tastes evolved? Is it easier to be generous in evaluation with the perspective of time? Or maybe is everyone wrong and I’m just that good at picking unappreciated gems at complete random off streaming websites? I’ll let you decide.

(Image credit: Columbia Pictures)

I haven’t made all the right decisions in my life. Not once have I been cockblocked by Jennifer Coolidge, nor was I interrupted in a breakup by Jennifer Coolidge hitting on my new ex. I can’t imagine anything gayer than these events happening. Jennifer Coolidge is a unicorn shaped sort of like a human. Rainbows spill forth when she staggers on screen and opens her mouth. Comic genius looks like Stiffler’s mom, but also, she is somehow the embodiment of gay camp, and she’s not in my life. I wish she’d spit on my shoes. I’m going to make a Task Rabbit where the only task I will take is being willing to let Jennifer Coolidge spit on my shoes.

Coolidge Cockblocking happens in Single All the Way, which is an hour and a half-ish sequence of the most incredibly gay things you can imagine in between Task Rabbit commercials.

Spontaneous fashion shoot in a wood pile giggling with your gay bff? Picking up extra gig work on vacation because you’re a poor-ass homo living between children’s book advances? Wearing sweaters with really long scarves? Taking over Jennifer Coolidge’s Christmas pageant to buff it like you’re Queer Eyeing your family? Secretly being mutually in love with your bff for years and never doing anything about it?

All so very, very gay.

I’d really like to thank Task Rabbit for sponsoring the gays.

Oh, did you ask me about Task Rabbit? Haha, so kind for you to ask.

Well, there’s this thing where movies require financing, and if your pitch is, “I want to make the homosexual version of a Hallmark small town romance,” you might have to make some odd compromises in order to see that through. Like promising a gig work app to have a significant amount of real estate in your story visually and in actual plot.

This is zero judgment. God, if this is what it takes to get my cozy gay small town shit, then fine! Fine. They can fall in love wearing Task Rabbit shirts. It’s not quite like that (okay, sometimes it’s like that) but the rest of the movie is so engrossing that I actually keep forgetting I’m actually watching a commercial.

When we aren’t learning how the hunkiest guy in the movie is *probably* this hunky and compassionate because he works with Task Rabbit, it’s a really good small town Hallmark-style romance! Wish fulfillment and comfortable feelings, like a six-pack nestled comfortably behind a designer chunky knit, are everything that I want from a Christmas watch, and we get wish fulfillment in spades. Do you have fantasies like My Family Understands The Gay Thing And Is Very Supportive? I mean, who doesn’t?

It’s a uniformly good thing when the family is all together. No sniping, no jabs, just love all around. The family’s mostly on the team where they want our lead to hook up with his best friend, but Mom wants him to hook up with her personal trainer, and it creates this playful atmosphere where everyone is too invested in the best way possible.

So yes, this is also another romcom where one of the people falls in love with the other romantic lead’s family. And it’s a friends to lovers. And it’s turning away from the big city life to embrace the dreams you were always too afraid to pursue, like opening a plant shop with your bff-turned-lover. (A plant store! I told you, Single All the Way is full of all the gayest things ever!)

But mostly it’s about Jennifer Coolidge’s cleavage, I think. I really can’t come up with a reason not to give this five stars.

Thanks Task Rabbit. This was a really nice extended commercial with homo kissing.

(Image credit: Netflix)

Normally, I’m the last person who would get into an inspirational romance, but tis the season for clicking on movie thumbnails that look vaguely like holiday romcoms. I went into Last Holiday knowing it’s only a Queen Latifah comedy. I was pleased to find a movie that fully embodies the holiday cozies that I seek during my yearly holiday movie thing. (art credit: me, Sara)

So here’s the sitch: Latifah has been working hard at a retail job for a decade, putting her trust in God that as long as she keeps herself right, everything will turn out right. She’s got a diary of potentials that includes a fabulous life full of vacations and love (with hunky coworker LL Cool J). But first she’s gotta work hard, help out her sister and neighbors, and keep going to church. Things have struck a sorta dull rhythm until our gorgeous heroine’s life gets shaken up by the misdiagnosis.

The idea has potential for getting depressing – I can ruminate on dying without help, thank you – but the emotional moments are strong without becoming overwhelming. It’s extremely fair for anyone to melt down a little bit over a terminal diagnosis. But Latifah’s character permits herself few moments of self-pity. Her relationship with herself is strong, as is her relationship with God, which doesn’t exactly waver but does often prompt Latifah to Give Him the Eye and ask, “Really?” The whole “Why me?” chorus she shares with her church community is heart-wrenching.

But still, it’s mostly light, and there’s a lot of quality class commentary going on. Retail’s a job with a lot of disrespect coming straight from the managers who don’t recognize you. Latifah’s main method of survivalism has been learning to keep her mouth shut. She’s totally lost her voice.

Once she realizes that being good in life hasn’t led to the best outcome, she decides to stop deferring her joy. Latifah cashes out on her assets to embark on a luxury European vacation. She also finds her voice. She meets everyone with complete honesty–but also complete compassion. And the world around her heals a little bit for it. Just a little. But oh boy does it feel good.

Bear in mind that this movie is loosely adapted from a 1950s flick starring Alec Guinness; this screenplay was originally intended for John Candy (with Carl Reiner directing no less!). I bet you can imagine the pure heart that is written into our hero/ine, then–along with strong physical comedy demands that Latifah meets wonderfully.

I mean it as the highest praise when I say that I think Latifah did as well as Candy could have in bringing her entire heart to the character, but she wears it on her outside more than I think Candy might have, and fairly so; this is a working class character who goes on vacation and immediately is forced to deal with her corporation’s boss. Like, can’t she relax before she dies?

If you’re familiar with the trope at play here, you know the movie’s going to have a happy ending. In fact, it’s pretty uniformly happy. I love it when romantic comedies take an opportunity to place us in a fantasyland that gives humanity some credit. People really are generally nice! Or at least, they want to be. Even the billionaire boss has his glimmering moments of humanity, and Latifah’s character is open-hearted enough to witness it, even if she’s got the boundaries of steel to protect herself too.

The romance here is an important relationship but not the most central one; I’d argue that’s between Latifah and God. But Hunky LL Cool J performs fabulously as a man whose job is to be head-over-heels for a woman as perfect as Latifah. That man faces a fear of flying to hike across an avalanche to make sure he can tell her that he loves her before she dies. Like, oof.

She also befriends an unexpected but charming Gerard Depardieu, and their chemistry is so good, I actually kinda wanted them to end up together. Can she have all of them? Giancarlo Esposito too. She’s way too good for him, and she’s right to turn him down, but also I argue that he is very cute and maybe she can fix him idk. This is a fantasy of hope, right?

I’m totally putting this on my yearly circulation, right with other ultra-cozies like While You Were Sleeping and When Harry Met Sally.

(image credit: Paramount Pictures)

“You know what movie is so funny but nobody talks about? Popstar by Andy Samberg,” say I, a Millennial, who tends to think SNL was the funniest when I was in my early twenties for some reason.

Ten years from now, we will hear a Z or Zennial saying, “You know what movie is so funny but nobody talks about?” and it will be this, in much the way this will be the funniest-ever era of SNL for them. “Will Farrell? I have no idea who that is. Marcelo Hernandez, on the other hand…”

Funny and well-paced, but somehow unremarkable, The Treasure of Foggy Mountain is one of those comedies most likely to be adored by stoned teenagers for decades to come.

In interviews, the creators said “Treasure” is meant to feel like Goonies, but there’s a special distinction here: This is a view of Goonies that sees Goonies as an ancient classic predating their era, not a Goonies that originated from their childhood. Any of these guys might tell us about how much their parents loved Goonies as a kid, so they watched the DVD rerelease, or something like that.

It feels different.

It’s impressive to keep hold of the viral internet shorts feeling for an entire narrative without getting annoying. I think the pace would satisfy someone used to watching internet playlists for hours instead of movies. But the pacing also slows enough to avoid becoming intolerable for someone patient enough to wait two hours to download a 15mb video clip with the resolution of a potato.

My favorite Gen Z influence is how casually fat women are included in the cast. There is zero acknowledgment, textually or in the director’s vision, of the fact 2/3 of the lead women are fat, and not like Hollywood in the 90s fat where Hugh Grant is snogging a woman with a hint of butt. These two park rangers are just stupid assholes like the three nerdy weeds they’re chasing. Hot, horny, stupid, useless, fat girl park rangers? Have I ever been so represented in a movie before?

~

It kinda seems like this generation of creators are obsessed with cults.

In “Treasure” Bowen Yang is the cutest most flawless cult leader to walk the Earth, as Bowen Yang is the cutest most flawless anything to play anything any time he shows up. His cult is hilariously scary. This is not the only cult I’ve seen in recent culture, and the more I think about it, the more I can name.

Midsommar was one of the more enjoyable cult movies recently; I posited that Mandy was the nighttime-flavored version of Midsommar. Ready or Not and Get Out give us whole family cults too.

Cult of the Lamb has become a fabulously famous indie game, and I’ve been playing Cultist Simulator for years.

TV shows give us cults all the time, like in Yellowjackets, The Path, Big Love, and American Horror Story Season Whatever.

We live in a time where cults can be so mainstream, the highest grossing movies of the year might star An Actual Cultist, the president might be a cultist, your parents might have gotten turned into cultists, and we have all known multiple people who got sucked into a cult selling candles/soap/makeup/knives/whatever.

Obviously some of the groups I’m bringing to mind aren’t explicitly cults, but rather some kind of socially predatory system that makes folks toxic to be around and may endanger their lives (but almost always their bank accounts).

I’ve got a theory why cult-like presences are so common in America right now, and it’s pretty simple: Humans are social animals that need communities to survive. We are never meant to function independently, or even in small cells (like a couple with a child). We don’t have the tools to do it. But we’re all poor as hell and working way too much to build communities with our neighbors–not to mention, who’s getting along with their neighbors right now? So we just get lonely. Some very basic part of our soul gets sick. And then it’s really easy to take advantage of the sickness.

Predatory megachurches, pyramid schemes, fad gyms, extreme political discussion boards, and other places are happy to sell us a substitute to the communities we might naturally grow if we weren’t always running around playing survivalist games, working long hours to pay medical bills.

So even if we haven’t tripped into one of these cult-like settings, we know people who have, and all of us are curious about wtf that looks like.

That’s my theory anyway.

In The Treasure of Foggy Mountain, the cult exists in the story to replace one character’s sense of community. His friends are growing up and moving on. The one who looks drawn by Tim Burton is joining a church and getting a house with his girlfriend; the one who looks like Conan O’Brien’s son is trying to inherit Conan O’Brien’s business. With nobody else willing to put up with some guy whose penis occasionally escapes his pants in full public view, there is only the not-so-loving arms of a cult to turn to.

In the end, friendship wins, because that’s the whole theme of the movie. This is so explicit that they might have a random character beatbox about friendship and treasures to propel the plot onward. It’s not subtle, but subtlety is overrated.

I’ve wasted a lot more time watching movies with many fewer laughs per minute by SNL alums than this.