_You ever have those moments when you’re driving, and someone cuts you off, and you just get angry about it? Yeah, we all have. I’ve had that happen, and I think to myself “Yeah, go ahead buddy, lord knows what would’ve happened if you hadn’t dangerously shifted lanes to save maybe 1 second from your commute.” And then I think…what if something bad would’ve happened if he didn’t save one second off his commute? What if this was like in a movie, and a pregnant lady is in labor, getting rushed to the hospital in the backseat and the driver is just going as fast and as semi-recklessly as he can? And he’s not being completely unsafe, because that would video game-like driving, where the fastest route is drive into oncoming traffic or running over pedestrians on the sidewalk or power sliding into other cars and using the physics engine to propel you out of your turn faster. But in those movies, rushing the woman in labor is heroic. We cheer them on. I dunno what the story is behind the guy who cut me off. It’s most likely that he’s just a selfish shithead and a bad driver…but it’s possible that they really do have something important to get to. So I try not to get too mad…though I don’t always succeed.
“A dim-bulb jock, a sex addict and a booze-soaked secret agent. The CIA’s dirty secrets are in their capable hands.”
It’s a movie, but even so…Burn After Reading.
_So Burn After Reading is basically…a spoof on spy movies. Like…a farce. The plot has all of these different threads that come together to be meaningless, and all of the characters are ridiculous dumbasses who have no idea what’s going on.
John Malkovich plays a CIA analyst who gets let go from his position, then decides to write his memoirs. His wife, Tilda Swinton, can’t stand his dumb face, and copies a bunch of files from his computer, like financial records and his memoirs, onto a CD to give to her lawyer looking to divorce him so she can be with deputy U.S. Marshall George Clooney, who is also screwing everybody in the movie. Said disc falls into the hands of gym trainers Frances McDormond and Brad Pitt, who think it’s all sensitive info and try to return it to Malkovich for a reward. Hijinks ensue.
_So…I’ve never been much of a Coen brothers guy. I always like their movies more in theory then in practice. It’s why I could never be a film critic, cause I think film critics have to love the Coens. But, like I said…I tend to like the ideas of their movies. So I feel like I’m always giving their movies a chance. So…here’s another chance.
And it’s another movie that on paper, I should love. All of the things I wrote sound like something I would dig, and it sounds great even as I write the words out, but I just didn’t really dig the movie. I can’t even pinpoint why. I’ve been sitting here for an hour trying to put it to words and I failed, so…just gonna stop.
_I like Brad Pitt, though. I like that guy. He’s totally spies in this movie. Actually, that’s not true. The girls in Totally Spies weren’t actually completely inept at espionage.
Maybe I’d have liked this movie more if John Malkovich had that “sweet” “Russian” “accent” he had in Rounders.
_Come by tomorrow, where we’ll going back and watching another old movie. To Catch a Thief. See you then~