“I don’t want to ruin it for you,” I said.
“My sister already told me the plot,” he said. “She was so outraged that I’d never seen it that she spoiled the ending for me. I already know who ends up with who. What’s the story line you hate?”
“It’s not a big deal,” I said. “Just some stuff that would never fly if they remade it now.”
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
“Like what?” Gabe asked.
Jeremy had once called my rants a “feminist monologue hurricane.” Once I got started, I could go on and on and on. Blowing hot wind, he said. Everyone should take cover.
He was such an asshole.
But he wasn’t wrong, because I opened my mouth and let the hurricane fly.
“It’s just that the whole thing that sets the plot in motion is Katharine Hepburn’s father cheating on her mother with a chorus girl. And Tracy Lord—Hepburn’s character—is the only one who thinks there’s anything wrong with that. Because she criticizes her father for cheating, she’s considered cold and uncaring—and a hypocrite because of one night where she got drunk and climbed on the roof of her house naked.”
Gabe was suddenly looking at the DVD with interest.
“Katharine Hepburn is naked in this movie?”
“No,” I said. “It’s just something they talk about.”
I kept going. Mostly because Gabe looked curious, not completely bored and/or horrified. Yet.
“Her father has this whole terrible speech about how basically the only reason he cheated is because his daughter didn’t worship him unconditionally and he had to go seek out the approval of a younger woman. Instead of Katharine Hepburn calling him a lecherous old man, she ends up apologizing for how she wasn’t a good enough daughter to him. She asks him for forgiveness. It’s a crash course in gaslighting and it’s gross.”
I was panting now, the way I always did when I really got caught up talking about something that needled me.
Gabe didn’t say anything for a while.
“So, you hate this movie.”
“No!” I tossed the DVD onto the bed. “I love this movie. It’s funny and romantic and has amazing banter. But it’s not perfect and I think it can be better.”
Jeremy had said that was ridiculous.
“It already exists,” he’d said. “It’s done. You can’t improve on something that was made over fifty years ago. You have to take it as it is.”
Maybe he was right.
Gabe looked thoughtful. “My sister didn’t mention any of this,” he said.
“There’s a lot more to the movie,” I said. “A lot of it is good.”
Gabe seemed doubtful. “You like the movie even though it has this horrible subplot.”
“I guess you could say that I love it, but I don’t worship it,” I said.
It had sounded extremely clever in my head but out loud it didn’t really make sense. Which, in a way, was the story of my life.
“It’s a good movie,” I said.
Gabe looked completely confused. I couldn’t really blame him. Jeremy had often said I didn’t make sense on the best of days.
Not that he didn’t have a point. Occasionally.
Gabe did seem like he regretted showing me the DVDs.
This wasn’t going well. I wasn’t supposed to be lecturing Gabe about misogynistic themes in classic films—I was supposed to be asking what he thought about the big-budget feature he was about to do.
Before I could, though, Gabe slapped his hands together, making me jump.
“I’m starving,” he said. “Let’s eat.”
SERIOUS_CINEPHILES.COM
FIVE REASONS WHY GABE PARKER WILL BE THE WORST BOND EVER
By Ross Leaming
It will come as no shock to our loyal readers that the team here at Serious Cinephiles is extremely disappointed with the latest Bond news. Here we break down all the reasons we think director Ryan Ulrich is making a huge mistake with the casting of his new leading man.
1. He’s American. Yes, I know that it’s been confirmed that Parker will be tackling a British accent, but why make him go through the trouble when you could just cast someone with a more appropriate background?
2. He’s not Oliver Matthias. I don’t know about you, but I call absolute bullshit on the claim that Parker was the production’s first and only pick. Presumably the producers saw him in Tommy Jacks, which is a fine enough movie but certainly doesn’t display any reach on Parker’s part. Especially not in comparison to his co-star WHO ACTUALLY HAS A BRITISH ACCENT. BECAUSE HE’S ACTUALLY BRITISH. That anyone could pick Parker over Matthias indicates that they shouldn’t be in charge of casting Bond. Ever.
3. He’s a hick. Look, I’m sure Gabe Parker is a perfectly nice person. He might even be somewhat intelligent. But we all know that his on-screen (and in-interview) persona is the polar opposite of what we expect from our Bond. The man with the martini needs to be sophistication personified. He shouldn’t be played by someone whose most famous talk show moment involved him playing beer pong with another guest. And winning.
4. He’s already sleeping with his co-star. They haven’t confirmed it, but anyone who saw those pictures of him and Jacinda Lockwood in Paris can tell that they are definitely knocking boots. But, Ross, you might say, doesn’t that speak to why he would be a good Bond? He’s already proven he can get the girl. Yes, exactly, I would say to you. Where’s the excitement, then? The chase? The anticipation? It just seems like Gabe Parker is a bro who can’t keep his dick in his pants. Plus, it’s just another sign that Parker is forever getting his co-star’s sloppy seconds.
Side Note: Is anyone surprised that Lockwood dumped Matthias for Parker? The Black British-born model has gotten quite the reputation for doing whatever it takes to get her movie career off the ground.
5. He’s too soft. I’m not talking about his body—we’ve all seen the shirtless pics from Cold Creek Mountain, a beefcake photo shoot parading as a serious movie—but there’s something undeniably tender about him. And Bond is NOT tender. He’s tough. Maybe it’s all Parker’s experience in the theatre, particularly his leading role in Angels in America. You all know what I’m saying.