middle cyclones and other references

Procrastination Theatre: April 26, 2012

Looking back on it, I’m realizing it’s actually hard to overstate how much I disliked this movie. Or as Hemingway would say it, this was not a good or a true movie.

Problem #1: the whole premise of the movie is just sort of weird and disingenuous. And creepy. Yeah, I said it. The whole idea of this memoir where this guy who lusted after her for a week pretends that he’s unlocked the secret of her character for all of us reeks of all that masculine gaze stuff that I hate talking about but that does actually happen a lot of the time. 

Problem #2: No thanks, Michelle Williams. I just can’t. Not into it, sorry.

Problem #3: ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH HOW TINY THE BUTT DOUBLE THAT THEY USED FOR MARILYN’S NUDE BOTTOM IS? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? That was a Size 2 butt. That was not a Marilyn butt. Like, fuck you, movie. Yeah, let’s make a movie claiming to unlock the secrets of the most iconic sex symbol of all time, and then let’s make her famously sexy, luscious body more appropriately sized for today’s standards. I hate whoever was in charge of this movie. I hate them with all my heart.

Problem #4: Sentimental, patriarchal claptrap. 

(via everyday_i_show: Gregory Peck and Mary BadhamKatharine He)

Procrastination Theatre: March 29, 2011

Here’s the thing about Marilyn Monroe movies. My favorite, thus far, has been The Seven-Year Itch, and I think it’s because Marilyn hasn’t been paired with a female companion in the movie. Whenever Marilyn is next to another woman in a movie - usually, for obvious reasons of contrast, an assertive and harder-hitting woman, like Lauren Bacall in How to Marry a Millionaire or in this movie, Jane Russell - I am just drawn to the brazen ballsy confidence of the other woman. I become fascinated with Marilyn in these movies precisely because she is such an absence in her own film at times.

I mean, Jane Russell is just a force to be reckoned with in this movie! The longest legs I’ve ever seen! Stacked like a brick shithouse! A fucking Amazon. I love her. (Side note: Mia, you might be represented in my head by Jane Russell from now on.) And it’s fascinating to compare Jane and Marilyn’s renditions of “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend,” because even the way the two bombshells move - I mean, how do you even describe the way Marilyn dances? It’s all pivots and revolutions around fixed points, all langorous extensions and angles. She’s barely even moving, it’s incredibly unique. And then Jane Russell just slays the number, like it’s not even a thing. She’s far more overtly sexual than Marilyn is, but at the same time, I feel like it might be harder to fascinate about her. Jane shakes her stuff but lets you know that she’s laughing like hell at you for getting turned on by it, for getting turned on by something she’s so blatantly just performing. Marilyn has no such wall (poor Marilyn, maybe.)

Procrastination Theatre: February 12, 2011

Oh, Marilyn. Perfectly beautiful and luscious and friendly. That’s what kills about her. Also, why don’t people have voices like Old Hollywood anymore? I feel like every generation gets a fraction of the voice their parents had, and now people only have like a tenth of the voice they should have.

This was charming and engaging and smart in a way that only these sort of old movies can be.

Side note: that Mad Men episode where Pete Campbell rapes the foreign nanny is, I can now see, very much derivative of this movie. Thank God it was not as creepy. Although, in talking about this similarity with the Boyfriend, we did come up with several pithy little Pete Campbell statements. Namely: “Pete Campbell: who needs roofies when you’ve got the sixties?” “Pete Campbell: he wears the pyjamas around here.” “Pete Campbell: don’t be caught in his hallway.”

(via vibranium)