My wife loves me. To prove this, she spares me the torture of watching the root of all evil in a masculine world: the chick flick. Typically these films star Reese Witherspoon or Julia Stiles, and involve a sappy adaptation of a rip off of a Shakespearean play. The goal of said movie is to move the audience (predominantly estrogen dominated homo-sapiens or “FABULOUS!” individuals) to tears or uncontrollable giggling. Clearly this is not a safe environment for the typical male, for at some point in time the females in the audience will see the romantic short-comings of any male in the room. Expressed in the following generalities: “Why can’t he be more like Freddie Prinze, Jr?” or “Do you think I could be doing Matt Damon?”
Occasionally I risk certain death, and tolerate one of these time honored bits of cinema in order to spend some quality time with my better half. And so was the case a few days ago when I allotted space in the omniscient DVR (see Give Me TiVo or Give Me Death) to record a movie my wife had shown interest in months ago as it made its theatrical debut. The movie in question was particularly dangerous because it involved two words that are synonymous with death in the male dictionary and when combined are on the level of Armageddon: Broadway and Musical!!
This movie also involved another scary proposition: the seventies disco band ABBA. In one fell swoop, I ventured into the straight man’s Bermuda Triangle of movies, all for the sake of love. I vowed to enjoy this time spent with her and therefore looked to enjoy the film, but it all took a tragic turn for the worse when James Bond, right before my disbelieving eyes, began to sing and dance! He of the cool cars, hot women, dangerous weapons and Judo CHOP (I know, wrong dude)! That’s right, Pierce Brosnan, our beloved James, of the long line of Mr. Bonds, 007 turning in his MI6 rating (and Man-Card) to yodel some Scandinavian disco band tunes for a few bucks. This is an outrage, a disservice to all the hardcore tough guy movies that earned their metal by being manly men. If Pierce now, what’s next? Antonio Banderas singing Andrew Lloyd Weber show tunes? Clint Eastwood starring in a Western Comedy Musical? Or perhaps you’ll steal our favorite X-Men hero and turn him into a singing dancing sweetheart? If this is how the feminine side of the world is going to play, we demand compensation. Give us one of your Broadway Stars for us to turn into a manly man. Send out Nathan Lane this very second!!!
Resurrected Movie Trailer Guy: “They took his family!! They took his fame!! They even took his…Gucci Man Purse!! Now he’s very unhappy!! This Summer Nathan Lane is the Perminator!!
Nathan Lane: I’ll be….FABULOUS!!!