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A new weekly.. er.. review from the “gifted” author of Drunken Rumblings.

I should have known this was a mistake the second I heard about Crazy Hat Thursdays. I don’t know what sort of site these people are trying to run, but not only are the organisational skills non-existent, these guys just might be insane…

I chose to exercise my only creative influence on this whole process by choosing the movie: 500 Days Of Summer. I saw the trailer, thought it looked quirky and cool, and remembered that I’m in love Zooey Deschanel, so I probably would have seen it anyway. But since I was going on a blind date I thought it would be prudent to choose a movie a girl might like. This movie seemed perfect. The scene was set. I even got there on time. My new supervisor [EDITOR‘S NOTE: ‘Boss’ is actually a more accurate word Ian] had emailed me the day before and assured me that I didn’t need to worry about anything – they had chosen the girl and she knew what time to be there, what I looked like etc. After 10 minutes of waiting my already faltering confidence in my editor completely disappeared and I decided to ring him. I could hardly hear what he was saying because a crazy woman had just gotten out of a car and was screaming at the driver in Russian, but the conversation went something like this:

ME: Johnny, this broad hasn’t showed up. I told you this was a bad idea.
JOHNNY: No, she’ll be there man, trust me.
ME: Well how long am I supposed to wait? The movie’s starting…
JOHNNY: She might be there already and just doesn’t recognise you. How many women are there around?
ME: Oh for fuck sake, this is ridiculous. Next time I am meeting the dame at the office so I don’t have to go through this shit every week. What does she look like?
JOHNNY: Well, she’s… mature. Kinda tarty make up. Lots of tattoos… and she’s foreign. Like Eastern European or something.

Just like in the movies, she recognised me at the same time I recognised her. The car she had been screaming into now itself screamed off and she doddled over to me on huge pink high heels. She had six inches on me at least [EDITORS NOTE: Hehe, six inches…what are we talking about here Ian?] and I could tell that whatever she said, though not in English, was not an apology for being late. I just smiled and led her inside. I took it for granted that I had to buy her ticket, and also the nachos, Slush Puppy and Maltesers that she demanded. She knew how to say the names of all of these snacks.

We got to our seats just in time, missing the opening credits, which pissed me off. I tried my hardest to settle into the movie. It opened well – establishing the non-linear narrative early on, which was used to much better effect than I expected, especially later in the film. I found it hard to concentrate though, since my date kept texting throughout the film. She also refused to put her phone on silent, and actually took a call at one point despite my best attempts at shutting her up. Beginning with a polite ‘shush’ I ended up yelling ‘see-lonce’ like a fucking caricature Nazi, as if she would understand that any better. The film’s charm and Ms. Deschanel’s… charms just barely made the whole experience tolerable until we found some common ground. She produced a half bottle of Stoli from inside her faux-fur coat and emptied half of it into her Slush Puppy. I asked if I could have some and just went ahead and poured the rest into my Coke. The vodka seemed to settle her and she apparently respected my heavy drinking. Things were looking up, and the film was really getting quite good.

The premise of the film, summed up very nicely in the tagline, is simply ‘Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love. Girl doesn’t.’ This makes for some very interesting scenes and deals with some situations most no-talent rom-com writers just won’t touch. It’s very modern, very hip and all the characters are so likeable, I started to wonder – around halfway through – where’s the catch? Turns out the catch never arrives and I happily went on sympathising with the guy who, unlike stereotypical male love interests, is funny, human, vulnerable, and excellent at karaoke. Hell, I was starting to enjoy myself. Then I realised she was sleeping. This normally wouldn’t have bothered me but her loud snoring was embarrassing, so I shook her awake. She mumbled something in Russian and took a gulp of her alco-puppy. Then the cheeky bitch decided to help herself to my popcorn, which was sitting in my lap. I figured she wanted some of the crumbly stuff at the bottom because she rooted around in the box for a long time before giving up, empty handed, and giving me a dirty look. ‘I’ve got to piss,’ I believe is the only English sentence she strung together in our entire time together, and she got up and left. For around half an hour.

She came back much seeming drunker than when she left and totally spoiled the good mood the film had instilled in me by yawning loudly over and over, as if trying to make a point. She was a hardened cynic, quite obviously an alcoholic, and there was just no way she’d ever understand a movie like this. About falling in love with someone who likes the same music as you. About getting drunk and singing along to that same music when you realise she doesn’t love you back. Some people just don’t get it, and it scares me to think maybe one day I won’t either…

It all fell into place outside the cinema, after the movie. I told her it was a pleasure and tried to make my getaway. She told me the film was longer than she expected and I had to pay for another hour. I told her I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. She said something in Russian and stormed off to her car. About 3 seconds later her pimp was coming at me with a switchblade. I ran away and hid in a public toilet, which I had to pay 20p to get in to. He was quite patient for a pimp, and went on banging the door for quite a while. I ended up spending £2.60 just to sit there for an hour and a half. After some time I realised it wasn’t him banging the door any more and someone just needed to pee. When I went outside they had gone, but I ran all the way to the bus stop anyway.

[EDITOR‘S NOTE: her pimp billed us for the last hour a few days later. Nice work Ian.]

[IAN‘S NOTE: You’re the one who sent me on a date with a hooker, jackass. And stop interrupting my fucking article with your little Editor’s Notes.]

I guess maybe a lot of people won’t like this movie. Chicks who dig regular rom-coms will be disappointed because the whole idea is that the film turns their beloved genre on its head. Most guys won’t like it because, well, it’s still a love story and it’s not macho enough. It’s a great little film though, so all those people can go eat shit. It has some great twists on cinema conventions, a couple of really excellent scenes (the big musical piece and the split screen segment), some cool music, and it is genuinely very funny. I guess either you’ll get it or you won’t. Either you’ll fall in love with Summer or you won’t. Either you’ll understand the simple joy of it all, or you won’t. If not, maybe considering taking a hooker to see the movie. At least you’ll get a popcorn hand job.

INTERESTING NOTE: I stole the idea for the title of this column from this movie. At the start of the film we are warned that it is not a love story. Just like this is not a review.

[EDITOR’S NOTE: Not interesting.]

[IAN’S NOTE: I’m serious - stop that.]

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