A Few Girly Flicks

So, I saw Baby Mama Friday night with the lovely and brilliant Erin. The movie made me laugh out loud many times. My girl Tina was lovely and sad and sweet. And Steve Martin stole every fucking scene he was in. But I didn't love it as much as I wanted to. I know that my expectations were ridiculously high. 30 Rock is officially my all-time favorite show, and I identify strongly with Liz Lemon. 

I'm not sure I can explain why I was (mildly) disappointed. Which is just super since I'm writing a blog about it. Ok, here goes. The movie didn't have enough heart. Before I saw it, I was under the impression that Ms. Fey had penned the film. It was actually written by a man. Now, the simple fact of his gender has little to do with my disappointment I think, and I have no doubt that Fey and Amy Poehler had a lot of input into their characters and the dialogue. But something seemed forced. I didn't feel as though I was watching real people or real relationships. And the ending was way too pat. I was frustrated that everything tied up so neatly, mostly because the film was supposed to be about a woman whose world is shattered when she realizes that not everything can be planned and not all of our dreams can be fulfilled. 

Having said that, it is worth seeing in the theater to see Steve Martin portray a long-haired, corporate hippie who vacations with Oprah and communes with Deepak Chopra. Seriously.

Movie tickets are ridiculously expensive these days, but I couldn't help spending another 10 dollars on Saturday night to see Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day. What a lovely movie. Frances McDormand is perfect, of course, and titian-tressed Amy Adams does a wonderful impression of Marilyn Monroe, and I mean that as a compliment. 

The story revolves around a woman, McDormand, who is a failure as a governess. In a desperate attempt to save herself from the soup kitchen, she steals an assignment from the agency for whom she used to work. When she arrives on the doorstep of one Ms. Delysia Lafosse, she finds that the young woman does not need a governess so much as a handler. She is juggling three men while trying to make her name as an actress in London's West End. 

Like Baby Mama everything ends neatly tied up, and all the people who deserve happy endings receive them, but I didn't mind as much in this film. And it has nothing to do with the fact that Lee Pace, playing Delysia's poor but passionate true love, is so yummy he makes my teeth ache. I adored him in the show Wonderfalls, and I fell head over heels for him in Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day. Plus, Ciaran Hinds is in the movie and hot. Also, I met him. And tried not to drool. Ahem.

Speaking of hot men, I don't get the obsession with Patrick Dempsey. He is handsome and not untalented, but he doesn't do it for me. To be fair, I am also unmoved by Brad Pitt, so perhaps it's time to have my eyes checked. And since I'm talking about Patrick Dempsey (ah, the awkward segueway), Enchanted  is another movie that I invested with unfair expectations. I was so certain that I'd like it, that I bought it sight unseen. 

I love Amy Adams. I loved her in Drop Dead Gorgeous, a highly underrated black comedy that should have made her and everyone else in it a huge star immediately. She's funny without relying on that ridiculous handicap of being the pretty girl who falls down a lot. (Are your ears burning, Teri Hatcher?) I am also a huge fan of James Marsden. He is so gorgeous and wildly expressive. Plus, dude can sing. 

What bothered me about the movie is small, but maybe not so much. In the beginning of the film, Dempsey's daughter is dressed in a Karate outfit and learning about strong women from her dad. By the end of the film, she is wearing a dress and obsessed with all things girly. Now, I am not anti-dress. Nor am I anti-princess. I own Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast. 

My problem is with the codification of femininity. Girls wear dresses. Boys wear pants. Girls have long hair and sing pretty songs. Boys go out into the world and cut things down and build bridges...or something. Gender roles are still incredibly stringent in this world and in this country. Women can venture into areas that used to be reserved for men, though not without some trepidation. But heaven forbid a man enjoy something that's considered feminine. 

All the glowing reviews made me think that the movie was some revolutionary take on the princess story, but really it was more of the same. Which is too bad, because I almost feel as though it could have been redeemed for me if Giselle had ended the movie in a Karate class with the daughter, dressed to fight and unafraid to be a strong, independent 3-D woman. Maybe next time.