Well, let's see: First of all, I'm really looking forward to overdosing on this. Oh, and to drooling over this. I have also long wanted this collection, and now, at last, it is mine.
And then there's the most important one, just in time for Valentine's Day: This. Yes, that is my favorite romantic movie and shut up, I didn't ask you and I don't want to hear it. It's also my favorite comedy, and my favorite drama; in my teensy-tiny world, all movies are Urban Cowboy, and Urban Cowboy is all movies. (I could explain to you how this is so, but you wouldn't believe me anyway.) It is even my favorite Dumb Movie Made to Capitalize on a Flash-in-the-Pan Trend of Limited Appeal, Starring One of the Saddest Celebrity Victims of Scientology Ever, Just Before He Really Went Down the Toilet and Needed the Man with the Gigantic Head to Resuscitate His Career (Since Trashed All Over Again).
Yes, yes, yes. I admit it, and no, I do not like it in an ironic way. I mean I like it sincerely, just as sincerely as Aunt Corene means it when she tells Bud and Sissy that they all live like pigs. See? That's just one more great thing about the movie right there: If nothing else, it makes me applaud my own housekeeping skills. How many movies got that going for them? Or rather, how many movies got that going for them that I can still stand to watch?--Because if it's one of those dark dungeon-y flicks where like rats and cockroaches scurry over half-eaten bodies, I'm just going to sit through most of it with my hands over my eyes because I'm chicken like that, even though it would be nice to say once in awhile, "Yes, there are cat food crumbs on the floor; yes, that stain there is where you dripped coffee on the counter; yes, that is mold on the bread crust, but look!--NOT ONE half-eaten body ANYWHERE."
Of course, somewhere on the campus of UT-Dallas (motto: Not the UT with the football team, not the UT without any football team, and not the UT by the Alamo), my more studious and scholarly half has probably sensed that this DVD arrived today and is hastily devising schemes to get out of watching it with me . . . as though this relationship were a democracy or something. I know, right? He hasn't got a chance in hell.
Das boot: Now with spurs.
Posted by Ilyka at February 3, 2005 12:39 AM in navel gazingNever trust a guy who eats worms.
Posted by: Rob at February 3, 2005 04:27 AMI've never seen that one. Mayhay I'll take that for the next Drunken Movie Review. Should be a hoot.
Posted by: Jim at February 3, 2005 10:59 AMNever. Seen. It? Ohmigod. Yes. Post a report ASAP.
"I got a thumb. I got a middle fanger."
And everyone goes home happy in the end. One of my favorites, too.
Posted by: Margi at February 5, 2005 06:30 PMAnd everyone goes home happy in the end.
Well, Wes doesn't--but then, he doesn't deserve to, so it works out.
The weird thing about me liking that movie is that I'm not particularly into any of the male leads in it. Well, I'm lusting all over Scott Glenn right up until the moment he breaks Travolta's arm and then it's, "Oh, right: He's the bad guy." A bad guy who looks mighty good in that fishnet shirt, but still.
One thing the boyfriend noted approvingly about the movie is that it's also a celebration of natural, braless titties. It almost looks weird nowadays that the two female leads are relatively flat-chested. I was always jealous of girls like that for being able to wear slutty halter tops and strapless numbers that I couldn't.
Jim should Drunken Movie Review it, definitely. Braless titties, Jim!
Posted by: ilyka at February 5, 2005 09:53 PMThe funniest part for me is "I got me a real cowboy."
*snorrrrrrrt*
As a woman who tended bars catering to rhinestone cowboys whose closest contact with cattle was the $2.99 Denny's breakfast of chicken-fried steak, I can remember hearing that one once or twice.
Honey? You don't WANT a "real" cowboy. They smell like horse's ass. Sometimes they even act like it.
Ima gonna have to go dig out my tape of Urban Cowboy, now. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY. LOL!
Posted by: Margi at February 5, 2005 10:17 PM