Well, I can now confirm it: Contrary to popular belief, I am not a hippie.
My family-- while very understanding and supportive of my internet life/artistic ventures/unconventional career path-- tends to joke about my "free-form chaos." My siblings refer to my guest room, which is often filled with traveling youtubers, as The Gypsy Hostel. I sometimes overhear my mom on the phone catching up with an old friend, saying, "It's called Five Awesome Girls, and they make these videos...." And I'm pretty much expected to always be dressed up as a mummy, or saving whales, or painting my face with glue. My one sister is the go-getter, my brother is the funny one, my other sister is the caretaker, and I'm this guy.
However, if Eat Pray Love is any example of how hippies are supposed to behave, then give me a freaking business suit and call me a fundamentalist, because that movie just left a seriously bad taste in my mouth.
I wouldn't ordinarily write a review like this on the opening day of a movie, for fear of spoiling the surprises and spurring on preconceived notions. But the thing is... there's really nothing to spoil. Astoundingly, the movie hardly managed to do or say anything in two and a half hours. By the time it was over, I couldn't remember anything about the world established in the first half. I was still totally and completely aware of the fact that I was watching Julia Roberts pretend to be a normal person. I paid nine dollars to see, in order: a whole lot of exposition with little purpose, James Franco looking kind of hot (purposelessly), some spaghetti, a bunch of people I didn't have enough of a chance to care about, an honest-to-God SHOPPING MONTAGE, more disorienting jump cuts than a wheezywaiter video, the lifeless drone of a main character pretending to have a soul but failing, some more characters whose names I can't remember and whose stories went by too quickly for me to be interested in, about twenty seconds of an elephant*, a terribly cheesy and terribly-executed flashback/dream sequence, and perhaps the worst and most unrealistic "romance" I've ever witnessed, which is saying something, because I saw The Last Song. I don't mean to give it all away, but the couple literally rides off into the sunset. I could have vomited.
Oh, and the message was the worst part of all. This movie preaches as much self-centeredness as an episode of Laguna Beach, multiplied by, like, Jordan Baker. The only thought we're left with? "Life is all about me. I should do whatever I want at all times, regardless of how it affects other people. Money is no object! The emotions of others are even less of an object! Maybe I'll get a divorce! Maybe I'll be with this guy! Maybe I won't! Maybe I'll be this religion! I'll do what feels good at this very second, and then move on to the next thing that momentarily satisfies me! Let's eat and gain sooo much weight that we're... we're still Julia Roberts." Give me a break.
Aaaand exhale. I'm sorry for that explosion, and I'm more than open to hearing your reviews, whether or not you agree with me. Maybe I'm overreacting, and maybe I just missed the point, but Eat Pray Love made me feel less like a vivacious foodie feminist and more like a moody semi-conservative in a theater full of menopausal women... and I was having hot flashes for a different reason. Sigh.
Today, I saw: a bad movie.
Today, I heard: a lot of people express surprise over the difference in my hair color. Still not used to it.
Today, I smelled: about forty different kinds of wine. I went with my mom and sisters to this cute little vineyard for dinner.
Today, I touched: a watermelon the size of my torso.
Today, I tasted: some kind of... fried pizza dough, dipped in... maybe marshmallow fluff? Whatever; I'm not too concerned. Probably not the best idea, but screw it, I'm a size four now.
Chipotle burritos this year: 23
Nail color: "Through the Grapevine," Wet 'n' Wild
*I'm serious. With no previous warning, and with no follow-up whatsoever, there was an elephant. Doing nothing to advance any sort of plot. Just chilling, being an elephant, for the sake of being an elephant. It was as if they'd finished the film, and the director was like, "Oh my gosh. You guys. We're in India. LET'S GET AN ELEPHANT. Put that in there! I don't care where! Just insert an elephant clip! White folks go craaazy for that shit!"
P.S. High-fives and make-outs for those of you who caught my Elizabethtown quote in yesterday's post. Obscure!