Rotting behind the Orange Curtain – it ain’t that bad

Today, standing in line at the cinema in the rain, I was so pissed off. I had tried to re-organise the line at the box office, you see. There was plenty of place to line up in the shelter, under the roof, since only one booth was open. But Americans… well at least in California, seem to be terribly law abiding. So they lined up at right angles to the booth, despite the rain, and despite my attempts to mobilize them.

I got my revenge when they bought tickets to see The Tourist.

I needed revenge. I had not been having a great day. I woke up this morning with my father on the phone. A good thing in a way – good to know he’s alive. He sounded weird, and confused, though. He was speaking unnaturally slowly. I was half asleep still. And full of dread. There’s nothing I hate more than having my (divorced) parents interacting – in any way, even in an unnaturally friendly way for my benefit.

And because my mother has failed to grasp the basics of webmail, and her plane to California is grounded in London, I now have them playing a disastrous game of broken telephone with me as the person on the end of the line. It’s like my childhood, but without the free food.

Now you'd be forgiving for thinking it was really clear what to do in order to send an email. I used to write user guides. MWEB - could you make the EMAIL BUTTON bigger. Just for me? Thanks.

My mother… I guess I could blame her. She decided to fly to visit me via that moldy old chestnut of a city: London. And now she’s stuck there. This is horrible in many ways. First, I am longing to see her. Second, I can’t leave Orange until her plane arrives… although I guess I could go to LA and wait there – LA is about the same distance from LAX as I am right now. And third, I booked us our dream train trip – to Seattle, on a sleeper – and we will probably miss the train, and lose not only the tickets but also the four days in a great hotel. This sucks.

So, I was depressed this morning. To deal with it, I performed some emergency retail therapy, involving a hair dryer, and a double feature. Yes, movies again. I have some catching up to do – although I’ve seen four movies in the last week, they were all shown in class. It’s different with popcorn and overpriced soda. Oddly, both my movie choices involved similar themes. Tangled, my morning movie, is the Rapunzil story reinvented for the age of skinny feminists who have no trouble getting guys. And when I cried at the end it was mainly because I’m not 21. Or whatever it is that men want.

But I do love that they cut parents and anti-parents like me a bit of slack in Tangled. Calling the white horse “fleabag”? Now, that’s a stroke of genius. The blonde’s curly-haired evil kidnapping mother was the main antagonist. So mother-daughter story. Except I think my mother gave me less freedom as a teenager. Than an evil mother in a Disney movie. But she loved me properly.

You win some, you resent some more.
That’s why I think parenting is generally a huge big mistake.

Next up, Black Swan, with story by Mark Heyman (oh, God, I pity him at school, for that name), Andres Heinz and John J. McLaughlin co-writing. At first, although I was enjoying it, I was confused. Where were the fireworks? Was this just The Company, but starring Natalie Portman instead. And then… woooah. The longest first act in fucking history hit me for a six. A case of breaking the rules of structure, and getting away with McKee’s murder. No… oh, what an amazing movie. A screenwriter’s wet dream.

I'll never look at a nail file the same way again.

Just for fun, here’s other random stuff I learned while watching Black Swan tonight.

1. Ballet is really very competitive. I am now very glad that I chose the comparatively easy world of the film and television industry, instead of going to dance school.

2. Natalie Portman is amazing. She is the missing link – between men and women. The woman all men want to fuck, and all women love and respect despite this and because of it at the same time.

3. Lesbian sex while on X is cool. That shot of the pink lace panties being ripped off… You had to be there. Wow.

4. Darren Aronofsky
needs to make one of the films I write one day. Which means I need to write a movie in which the protagonist… no wait. I can’t finish that sentence without giving away the ending. Although even if you guessed it, the film is so good that it really, really doesn’t matter. I would, no I will, watch it again. Anyhow, despite the fact that he looks like Darrel Bristow-Bovey on a bad facial hair day in most of his photos on IMDB, he’s hot shit in Hollywood right now for all the right reasons.

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