Teen Wolf Review: Part One - The Movie

Yeah, I'mma do it. I'm going to review an actual TV show. Show in question: MTV's Teen Wolf. A darker, edgier spin-off of a campy 80's teen movie that starred Michael J. Fox. Legend has it that he later regretted doing the film and could not remember why on Earth he agreed to it in the first place, but that's a story for another time.

Teen Wolf and I go way back. Not "when it first came out in 1985" back; more like "when I found the film and its equally cheap sequel on DVD for $5 in the early aughts." That was where we first met. I was about twelve years old, an awkward, asexual kid who had discovered the brilliant psych-porn that is transformation fiction. I loved it; it made me feel all weird inside in a non-sexual but completely awesome way. That alone wouldn't have pushed me into buying the film, but there were other factors: firstly, I had fairly limited tastes in TF that were hard to come by on the Interwebs, and secondly, Michael J. Fox.

So I bought the movies, and I loved it. I knew even then that it wasn't a great film, but that paled in light of oh my gosh transformation sequence. I watched the movie and its sequel several times, partially because I liked looking at the protagonists, and partly because just watching the transformations made me feel cheap somehow. Teen Wolf was truly my porn film.

That lasted for about two years, I think. I was always on a little shaky ground with the movies - the prosthetics were terrible and the stories were cheap - and as I got older it became harder and harder to ignore the glaringly bad production values. I ended up giving away the DVD's, and that was pretty much that.

Fast-forward to 2011. I'm now an adult, with an entire Internet of infinitely better entertainment at my fingertips (not that that stopped me from watching films like Wes Craven's Swamp Thing). And I find out that MTV, bastion of cheap entertainment for frustrated white teenagers, is making a TV show adaptation of this film. A Darker and Edgier show adaptation which was guaranteed to have almost nothing to do with the original movie.

At first I was like, "Well, this is going to be horrible." (Links to MyFaceWhen)

And then I was like, "Who cares? It's a frikkin' werewolf show!"

Okay, yeah. At the Very Mature Age of twenty-one, it turns out I still like the same stuff I did at thirteen. My tastes are a little more expensive now, but amazingly, I never lost the willingness to subject myself to things that I knew were going to be terrible and enjoy doing it. (Also, they bribed me with shirtless men. Have I mentioned I am no longer asexual?)

So I pretty much knew that I was going to have to watch the show, and I knew that it was going to be a sickening celebration of white, straight, cisgender, able-bodied, good-looking manhood. So I thought to myself, hey, I'm bloggin' the social justice, why don't I do a breakdown of the show?

So that's what I'm going to do.

Now, before we get into the show (which consists of one episode at the moment), we need to get into the source material. After all, Teen Wolf doesn't just take its name from this campy 80's movie, oh no. It also takes several character names, the approximate location, and various thematic elements, as well as containing several visual shout-outs to the original film. So before I review the show, I have to at least describe the movie.

So, without further ado, here is Teen Wolf: The Movie.

The plot: Scott Howard, introduced in a bizarre opening sequence that is about a decade too late for its effects, is a sweaty, nervous basketball player. Of the kind that looks like he's going to die on the field. He's small and skinny, and is constantly being physically dominated by a rival team's captain, Mick; basically, he is at the bottom of the basketball-team pecking order. (Despite this, he is somehow an important part of the basketball team - so important that the coach refuses to let him quit. Lolwut.) Scott's best friends are "Stiles," a kid who was indie before it became popular, and "Boof," who is also indie and just plain awesome. His life consists of playing basketball, delivering hardware, attending ludicrously oversexed parties, and failing to get the attention of classmate Pamela, who is Mick's girlfriend. Pamela's Magical Thin Blondeness is enough to distract Scott from the overtures of Boof, who is obviously desperate to get into his pants and wishing that he would just get the hint already.

Not realizing what he's got, Scott is dissatisfied with his life - "sick of being so average," as he puts it. Well, lucky him, that is all about to change.

Suddenly, things start happening to Scott. He starts hearing things he shouldn't - like a dog whistle that some wiseass kid declares "broken." He finds a few strands of strangely isolated hairs growing out of his chest. Parts of him start transforming for no reason, especially when he is nervous or excited (see: anywhere near Pamela.) All of these Strange Happenings peak on the full moon, when he arrives home from one of the aforementioned parties just in time to transform into a miniature Bigfoot - I mean, a werewolf. Yeah, turns out that it runs in the family and his dad was just hiding it from him. Jerk.

(The transformation sequence is cheap, and contains ludicrous amounts of makeup and hey, air bladders! Still, it's worth catching for MJF's overacting.)

He finds this awkward at first, but soon realizes that being a werewolf has certain advantages. He gains significant physical prowess, loses many of the insecurities that plagued him before, and discovers that nearly everyone wants to give him services of varying kinds in exchange for affiliation with the great Teen Wolf (coined by Stiles, who turns out to be a fame-grubbing turkeybag). The lone exceptions are Boof, who tries to point out how ludicrous the situation is, Mick, and Principal Thorn, who carries an inexplicable hatred for Scott.

Aside from those two dim spots, though, life is pretty good. His mad skillz are propelling the formerly shitty basketball team to stardom, and he even gets a role in the school play, which gets him close to Pamela - who is all too happy to schtoink him now that he's popular. (Apparently the body hair is also a turn-on.)

It ain't all sunshine and sparkles, of course. Boof is put off by Scott's newfound ego trip, and his basketball teammates are cheesed off that he is dominating every game. And it keeps getting worse. Mick, in a fit of jealousy over Pamela, reveals that he murdered Scott's mother for stealing chickens from his yard. Pamela reveals that she has no interest in a relationship with Scott and was just diddling him for a thrill. His friend Louis is afraid to be around him, and his dad isn't happy about the fact that he's been blowing off work.

And to top it off, he's not even that happy with it. The fame is awesome and all, but it turns out that the pressure of being Teen Wolf is more than Scott really wants to deal with. (Poor baby.) When Boof refuses to attend the Spring Dance with him unless he goes in human form, he starts to re-think his priorities. But only a little bit. Fame is important, you know!

Scott's real turning point happens at the dance, when Mick attacks him for the crime of being attractive to Pamela. Scott wolfs out and uncontrollably shreds Mick's shirt, then realizes that Louis' fears were not unfounded - and that the audience is loving his violent side (and, more worryingly, that Pamela is the only one who has it straight). This finally causes the message to sink in that, gee, maybe people really do just like him for very screwed-up reasons, and he decides to quit wolfing out for fame. (The drama teacher seconds this point.) He plays his next basketball game as an ordinary human, and the team manages to win through a combination of inspiring speeches and the power of love. And they all live happily ever after.

Oh, and Scott's dad gets Thorn off his back by growling at him and making him wet his pants. (They had history.)

I'm not going to do a full review here, because that would take up another blog post. I will say that, unless you're really dying for a werewolf fix, this movie is completely missable. It has a few clever moments, but it never really amounts to anything great (and throws in some overt acts of racism and homophobia for good measure). For MTV to make their show better than this movie would be less of an achievement and more a given. Honestly, I'm surprised that they're not completely embarrassed to even be affiliated with it.

So, that's Teen Wolf the movie. Next time, I actually review the show.

A Breakdown Of "I Kissed A Vampire"

"I Kissed A Vampire" is a web musical that spans three episodes. Directed by Chris Sean Nolan (not to be confused with Christopher Nolan), and starring a whole slew of white people, it tells the story of confused teenage vampire Dylan, his girlfriend Sarah, and Dylan's self-appointed mentor vampire Trey.

Dylan is played by Lucas Grabeel. Those who have seen the High School Musical films know him as Ryan Evans, Sharpay's fey underdog of a brother. Sarah is the adorable Adrian Slade, who previously had not done any film acting but has a history in theatre. And Trey is filmed by Andrew Seeley, the singer who filled in for n00b Zac Efron in the first HSM film and a decent actor in his own right.

The first episode opens with Dylan, angsting about his newly-acquired vampirehood. Not only is he having problems with fangs and blood cravings, but he's really worried about his best friend and proto-girlfriend, Sarah. Any time they get too close, he gets a sudden urge to go for her neck and the whole thing gets awkward. It's a simple and obvious allegory for teenage sexuality and the Awkward Boner, but it works well enough. He performs the song "Outta My Head," expressing his regret that he can't get close to Sarah but also can't stand to be apart from her, with plenty of imagery that seems to be borne of his vision of himself as an intrinsically corrupted and dangerous thing.

After that, the story switches to Sarah, who expresses herself with "Forbidden Planet." The song, with an interesting mixture of aggressive and submissive imagery, conveys the fact that Sarah is very much in love with Dylan and really, really wants to just get it on with him already, but his avoidant behavior is leaving her confused and frustrated. Finally, she decides to visit him and find out what's going on already.

The end of the episode introduces Trey, and the beginning of the second episode fleshes him out. Trey's basically the opposite of Dylan. He's confident, to the point where he is aggressively sexual, and tries to encourage Dylan to be the same way. The song "Love's In Vein" is pretty much Trey's ode to casual sex, implying that a monogamous relationship is a waste of time and that what Dylan should really be doing is sowing some wild oats, with a backup dance crew of seductive lady vampires to drive the point home. Dylan's not into it, which frustrates Trey.

Who should show up at this point but Sarah? She's here and she wants to know why Dylan's being so weird. Trey, sensing opportunity, decides to use Sarah to try to manipulate Dylan into vamping out, and uses his vampire powers of hypnosis to convince her to come to a party. Dylan is against it, but Sarah, under Trey's influence, advises Dylan to "live a little" and they leave.

The third episode opens at the party, where Trey's backup dancers are revealed to be his harem of hypersexual vampires. Trey gives Sarah a drugged drink, then encourages Dylan to take advantage of her altered mental state and kiss her. Dylan refuses at first, but when Trey pushes him he goes for it. His fangs come out again, though, and he stops himself. Trey gets frustrated and decides to seduce (read: rape) Sarah himself. Through the song "Just A Little Peck," Trey and Sarah dance and flirt with one another while Dylan, who is being held back by the dancers, continues to angst about the possibility of hurting Sarah.

The scenario climaxes when Trey starts to bite Sarah, which gives Dylan the courage to break free of the dancers and fight him off. This apparently causes Sarah to snap out of the effect of her drink, and she asks Dylan what's going on. Avoiding the topic of vampires, he instead goes on the "confession of love" tack, and Sarah kisses him. The last song, "Happily Afterlife," consists of Sarah and Dylan vowing to be together forever, no matter what weird stuff might happen.

It's pretty silly, but it's also very interesting, which I will now get into.

First of all, you have Dylan. Realistically speaking, there's nothing groundbreaking about this character; he's the typical virgin whose horny best friend is encouraging him to do something he's not ready for (straight out of an 80's movie.)

However, his character is important, both as a role model to teenage boys and an example of a genuinely good (i.e., safe and dateable) vampire boyfriend for young women.

Dylan's character bears a great deal of similarity to the better-known Edward Cullen, whose refusal to have sex with his girlfriend is only matched by his determination to control everything she does for her own "safety" - manipulative at best, abusive at worst. Dylan, on the other hand, is against manipulating Sarah in any way. Certainly he does not find it necessary in the end to terminate their relationship just because there is a chance that she might be hurt.

The downside to this is that he doesn't give her a chance to terminate the relationship based on that, though. He avoids letting Sarah know that he is a vampire repeatedly. This is largely because he's convinced she won't believe him, but it has the unintended side effect of removing her ability to make an informed decision and is NOT COOL, GUISE.

Sarah is, without a doubt, my favorite character. When she's first introduced, she is the epitome of what white teenage femininity is "supposed" to be - wholesome, blonde, yadda. But within a short time of her introduction she is revealed to be quite sexual, and unapologetically so. Yet she is never portrayed as a "slut" - in fact, the clothes she wears in sexually-aggressive mode are almost as wholesome and modest as her regular outfit. She's a good girl who also has needs and isn't afraid to vocalize them.

Again I feel the need to compare the story to Twilight, as its mortal, vampire-loving heroine is also wholesome-seeming but with a not insignificant sex drive. However, there's a huge difference between the stories. Whereas Bella's sexuality is portrayed as rashness, and Edward as a sort of hero who saves her from herself by refusing to have sex with her, Sarah's needs are shown to be valid and worthy of fulfillment.

Trey is the character whom I feel is most likely to be misinterpreted. This is because of certain traits that, to be honest, cause me some pretty mixed feelings. Basically, one way to look at Trey is as an incredibly powerful, confident, and dominant vampire - in other words, sex in a can. He's hot, no doubt about it. But he is also manipulative, misogynistic, self-centered, and an attempted rapist, and this is in no way a good thing.

My main problem with that is that I don't feel the story comes down hard enough on him for what he did. Dylan does stop him, but really he suffers no consequence for manipulating Sarah - in fact, while the main lovebirds are confessing their love for one another in the final number, Trey is in the background having fun with his harem. The message appears to be that Sarah isn't a toy, but all those nameless girls in the background are. The fact that the vampire women have a significantly "sluttier" appearance than Sarah - big, curled hair, sensuous movements, more pronounced makeup, and more revealing clothes - gives the unfortunate impression that any girl who acts in such a manner is fair game for an asshole's collection of sexually available women. Not awesome.

There's also the fact that the "good" characters have blonde hair - often used as a shorthand for purity - and the "bad" characters have brown hair, implying some kind of corruptitude. Yeah, right.

I have to say that I really have a soft spot for this musical. There are some unfortunate implications (a nice way of saying "harmful messages") in the story, but it's also got some good things in it, and the soundtrack kicks ass. So does Drew Seeley in that funerary suit, yes indeed.

What Exactly Is Wrong With Mr. Popper's Penguins?

Okay, so it's half an hour until bedtime, my eyelids are about to shut on their own, the indicator lights on my computer aren't working (I'm starting to suspect imminent system failure - time to back up everything and call the Geek Squad) and then, via this post on Shakesville (in a strictly roundabout fashion), I get THIS.

THIS is the trailer for the upcoming Jim Carrey movie, Mr. Popper's Penguins. Oh, Jim Carrey, how I love/hate you. You, sir, are the male Lady Gaga of comedy. I adore you for your aggressive deconstruction of masculinity and yet you can be such a douche.

Okay, time to quit railing on Jim Carrey. I'm not sure this upcoming mess of a movie is entirely his fault.

It would be far too easy for me just to say the trailer is bad. I mean, we all KNOW that. No, I'm going to go beyond the traditional. I'm going to take a 1:25 movie trailer and deconstruct it like a really real critic, because the failure of this trailer is too deep to be appreciated at first glance.

Here we go.

Firstly, a little background information. This movie is based on a 1938 children's book, also titled "Mr. Popper's Penguins," the summary of which runs thus (according to a website I read):

Mr. Popper is a house painter whose dreams of Arctic exploration prompt him to write letters to real explorers. One of them sends him a penguin, which he keeps in the icebox. Before he knows it, the painter has a litter of 12 beaked birds. They eat voraciously, leading him to form Popper's Performing Penguins, a stage act that goes on tour and creates mayhem at every stop.

I like it. It sounds fun. I especially like the sounds of the hero, Mr. Popper. He is a white male adult, but he's also a working-class hero - and as someone whose job prospects so far have involved working for a dairy or cleaning someone's house, I can get behind that. Plus, penguins! I love penguins. And so do kids. This sounds like the kind of book that would probably induce a lot of giggles in small children, and I'm always for that.

Then I watched the trailer.

OH SWEET CREAMERY BUTTER. I'm just going to make a point-by-point list of everything that they've screwed up.

1. Bye-bye, working-class hero! The protagonist of THIS movie is now a Businessman. Not just any Businessman, but THE Businessman. You know, the one whose nice, orderly life is wackily messed up by wacky kids or wacky penguins, forcing him to slide down the slippery slope from his nice, orderly, kyriarchy-approved Businessman lifestyle into total wackiness. Yes, you know the plot. To explain exactly why this bothers me, well, go back to the summary of the book. It's about a guy who doesn't have much, craves something more, and then ends up getting it, if not exactly in the way he expects. It's an empowerment tale. This is the polar opposite of that plot, and one that's been done to DEATH. Classist, please.
2. WHY DID HE NOT RUB HIS CHOPSTICKS BEFORE EATING? Those are the disposable snap-apart chopsticks, you have to rub them to get rid of the splinters! Actually, that's not the question at all. The question is why he is eating with chopsticks in the first place. He's eating what appears to be a pile of raw (possibly frozen) fish chunks. I could be wrong, but my racist-dar is detecting the good ol' "sushi = raw fish" misconception, straight from the minds of People Who Didn't Give A Shit Enough To Stop Perpetuating This Stereotype. Yeah, you know the guys. Because sushi is raw fish and also Japanese food and you eat Japanese food with chopsticks and yeh.
3. "PENGUINS! YES!" This is not a complaint. This was the highlight of the whole trailer. That kid captures everything that this movie SHOULD be, and probably isn't.
4. "Word." Just "Word." Also the song played at that point in the trailer. Once again, black culture (outdated black culture at that) is treated with this cavalier "isn't this what kids are into these days?" attitude. You throw it in there for cool points, "street cred," if you will. Never mind the fact that while WHITE kids who are into black culture are harmless and easily dismissible (even profitable!), BLACK kids who are into black culture are ghetto and 'hood and OH MY CORNPUFFS THEY ARE SO FUTURE CRIMINALS. Punish them for inventing the culture, then co-opt it for profit. Oh, Whiteness, I've missed the sweet sound of your asshole emissions.
5. Speaking of that dance, Dick van Dyke did that decades ago and it was... well, I was never crazy about it but it was STILL more charming than this, mainly owing to the omission of Jim Carrey's increasingly creepy-ass face. DUDES. Stop putting him in children's movies PLEASE.
6. Oh, and out of three (nine if you count the penguins) characters, there are absolutely no women in the trailer with a speaking role. WHY IS THAT.

I won't bother asking why he feeds them at the table or why there is snow in his house, because it's a kid's movie, and I'm not that much of a dick.

Y'know what really pisses me off? Tsu'tey.

I know, I know. With all the things wrong with Avatar (White Savior Syndrome, the portrayal of Native Americans/Na'vi as amazing and powerful super-nobles who just don't have enough chutzpah/imagination to rescue their own sorry asses, yadda) I pick Tsu'tey, of all things, to bitch about. Why?

Well, I'm a writer - one that loves well-developed characters characters. And despite all the changes L.A.'s had, there's one thing our gold-rush pioneers in Hollywood are still good at doing in spades: pissing on tertiary guys, especially brown/blue ones. Case in point, Tsu'tey.

Who is this mysterious blue man? Well, according to the movie, he's a Na'vi warrior in Ney'tiri's tribe. Nobody knows where he came from, what his credentials are, or how he is in any way relevant to the plot - all we know is that he is engaged to Ney'tiri (what is with those apostrophes?) and slated to become the next tribe leader. Throughout the movie, he does such pivotal things as (1) standing around staring disapprovingly at Jake, (2) teasing Jake, (3) losing his fiancé to Jake, and (4) dying so Jake can take over the tribe.

WHAT THE FUCK.

I'm sure some people don't see why this is a problem. Y'know, every story has characters that aren't integral to the plot. They're there to give it some depth, y'know, make it look like there's an established world. They don't have to do great stuff.

Not Tsu'tey. He doesn't exist to give the story additional depth. He exists so that Jake can take everything he has.

I'm not even kidding. In the beginning, Tsu'tey is betrothed to Ney'tiri, the totally hot catgirl who ends up helping Jake out. It's stated that she's engaged to him. Jake is warned away from hitting on her because of this. Tsu'tey mocks him constantly and tries to get him killed because of this. Because of this, and the fact that they're supposed to be the next leaders of the tribe, you get the general idea that there engagement is kind of a big deal.

And then what happens? One day, without warning, Jake and Ney'tiri just go off and get laid/married. There's no explanation as to why this is suddenly acceptable. Jake just hits on Ney'tiri, and she's like "Oh, fuck tradition! I like you, let's get hitched." I'm all for her having the choice, but it pretty much flies in the face of all the setup about her Very Important Engagement. And what does Tsu'tey do when he sees them the morning after their wedding night? He's indignant for all of two seconds and then he's like "Hmph, whatever," and walks off.

I don't know about you, but I'd be pretty damn pissed if my FIANCÉ went and married someone else and didn't even TELL ME and I didn't find out until I walked in on their honeymoon. So what's with Tsu'tey? Maybe he didn't care because they didn't actually like each other that much (Hollywood Rule: Arranged = Loveless), but we never find out.

Okay, so what else does Tsu'tey do? Well, he becomes temporary leader after the old one dies, and he translates for Jake when addressing the other Na'vi, and then... he dies. That's it, that's his big accomplishment. It's a hugely badass scene, and it does end up saving everybody, but... well, let's just say he's not getting the girl.

Like I said, he exists just so Jake can take all his stuff. Take him out, and nothing would change in the plot (except Ney'tiri's dad would have to live a while longer). He is nothing more than a colossal "fuck you" to the Na'vi - a way for Jake to appropriate their things for his own benefit while Cameron appropriates the Natives' for his, and making it okay by giving his half-assed permission. And he's badly written to boot.

The way I see it, that "translate for me" exchange can only be interpreted two ways:

SULLY: Brother, please accept my asking you to translate for me as appropriate recompense for my stealing your girlfriend.
TSU'TEY: I absolutely consider your cheap token of respect to be equivalent to your phenomenal token of not giving a damn about my people or their traditions.

Or:

SULLY: Brother, please accept my asking you to translate for me as appropriate recompense for my stealing your girlfriend.
TSU-TEY: What, Ney'tiri? You can keep the bitch. Hell, I owe you for taking her off my hands.

Strangely, the least potentially canon option is also the most plausible. It could have been an interesting plot twist, but JC doesn't even give us that.

I Freakin' Love This Movie: In & Out.

Having spent a bit of time bitching about movies that were terrible (Chuck & Larry, It's A Boy/Girl Thing) I thought it was high time to talk about a movie that I love, and that movie is In & Out.

In & Out is a gay movie. Specifically, it's a gay, white, cisgendered, male, small-town, able, full-size, nondenominational-Christian movie, but it can be summed up pretty well as a gay white cisgendered movie, since those are the biggest cultural factors.

The story is about Howard Brackett, a mild-mannered English teacher who has been engaged to the same woman for three years. A few short days before his wedding, he is unintentionally outed by an earlier student of his during his Oscar acceptance speech. Hilarity ensues.

The premise of the movie is about the challenges Howard goes through as an involuntarily-outed gay man in a small, reserved, semi-conservative town. It does not go well - not only does he have to deal with the gossip of the locals, but his own self-made mess when he realizes that, in fact, he is gay.

Before I get to the meat of the review, I want to say this. This movie is so white and able it hurts. There are no POC in Greenleaf. None. This was probably done to bolster the idea of Greenleaf as a "wholesome" town, which is a sickening commentary on the perceived "wholesomeness" of white people. There are no clearly disabled people save an old woman with a walker and Howard's slightly mentally-challenged brother, who is treated as something of an embarrassment (not hugely, but still noticeably). Just to be clear, I have nothing against white movies about able people, but this one really made me stop and go "lolwhut?"

And that's really the worst I can say, because the rest of the movie is awesome.

In & Out attacks the kyriarchy on several fronts. First there's the obvious "gay" front - Howard's mishaps in being outed, then coming out, then being accepted. Then there's the "heteronormativity/gender nonconformist" front - while Howard is shown with some stereotypically gay traits that someone might jump on, it's also show that a lot of people in Greenleaf have something "gay" about them, from Howard's male hairstylist to his buddies who enjoy watching Barbra Streisand movies with him. Conformity to some oversexed idea of masculinity, the movie says, is overrated.

Next up: women and fatness. This movie had so much potential to go wrong here. Howard's fiancé, Emily, is a woman whose low self-esteem issues pushed her to lose weight in time to fit into the right size of wedding dress (which she succeeded at - and was continually miserable about because it was such a battle). Furthermore, it turns out that she forced herself to stay in a celibate relationship for three years just because she thought Howard was the only one who would have her, and whaddya know? She was pretty darned horny after all that time. She's messed up, and that could have gone really badly. As luck would have it, though, breaking up with Howard is the best thing that ever happened to her, as she later finds true love with someone who is both straight and into chubby ladies, and the lesson (as is true for Howard) is that you will be much happier if you're loved for who you are instead of forcing yourself into someone else's ideal.

Another great Emily thing was the breakdown/fight at the church, right after Howard comes out. She is pissed. I mean, really pissed. Her sudden exclamation of "Fuck Barbra Streisand!" is one of the best points of the movie, highlighting the sheer amount of rage and frustration she feels at being essentially lied to by the guy she was supposed to marry for three years. Her rage is totally understandable and justifiable, and whaddya know? The supporting characters feel the same way. Even Howard, who's just freaked out the entire town by coming out, lost his job, and is otherwise sort of despondent, takes the time to apologize for ruining her life. It's almost like this movie was written by a woman, rather than Paul Rudnick. And then she goes and finds true love with a guy who, at least in my eyes, is at least 3x hotter than she is. Win/win.

(The movie touches on transgenderism once, in passing, in the sense that "being gay does not mean you want a sex change." Which is a good point to make.)

Now, this movie is at its heart a comedy - and fear not, it is hilarious. It pokes fun at the movie industry, including Oscars and outrageously vain celebrities, at over-reserved nondenominational white Christians, at the tendency of dudes in charge to completely overreact at a sudden case of teh ghey, and at the whole concept of heteronormativity from both male and female standpoints (though mostly male). It's also a very sweet movie, with lovable characters and a heartwarming-yet-hilarious climax that should not be missed. All in all, it's worth at least one viewing - personally, I'm up to three.

Offensive As Hell: I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry

Come to think of it, I don't even know why I watched that movie. It had Adam Sandler in it. That should have been enough to put me off, except I was naive and idealistic enough to think that being a comedy about gay people might counteract the involvement of Adam Sandler. I was very, very wrong.

For those unaware, the plot runs like this: Chuck and Larry are two straight, white firefighters and best friends. Larry is a lovable fat guy whose wife died about a year ago, and Chuck is his slimmer, sexier, perpetually single best friend who gets laid at a rate of about 1.5 women per night. Larry realizes that, with his wife dead, he doesn't have a beneficiary for his life insurance, and that it's too late to change it to his kids. He's got to find a beneficiary or else his insurance will expire. In a fit of mad inspiration, he discovers that gays have just been given civil partnership laws in his state (New York, where all the cool movies happen), and so he hatches a mad plan: obtain civil partnership with Chuck, making him beneficiary of his insurance policy.

What a wacky plan, right? This poor, dear man is so desperate to take care of his kids that he'd do anything - even marry his male best friend - to make sure that they were taken care of in the untimely event of his death. Isn't that amazing?

No.

The movie is nothing short of a train wreck from beginning to end. While the creators took a stab at making Chuck and Larry likable, forgivable characters, the movie is so deeply entrenched in "irreverence" (read: toilet humor and complete insensitivity) that you end up too mad at its creators to even care about Larry's motives.

No, I take that back. The fact that the movie's writers obviously thought they were being sensitive about the issue made it even worse.

The movie starts out with a scene that's going to set the tone for everything to come: our two main characters, out on a call, struggling to rescue a hugely obese man from a burning building. The man insists that he is too fat to walk, so the characters end up carrying him out on his bed (or something else equally huge; I don't remember exactly). The entire scene is disparaging and generally insensitive of this kind of obesity, playing it (like everything else) for laughs. Given that the man's fatness has absolutely nothing to do with the remainder of the story, it feels pointless, jarring, and just dumb. The only thing I can figure is that it serves as a kind of litmus test for the rest of the film: if you liked that scene, you'll enjoy the rest of the movie; if not, please get in line for your refund. I probably should have stopped watching there, but like I said, naive and idealistic. Moving on.

During this brave rescue, there is an accident and Chuck is injured. Larry rescues him, ensuring that Chuck will forever feel indebted to him, and reminding him of his own fragile mortality. That's when he abruptly decides to check up on his own life insurance (or something like that), only to find out that while he could have named his kids as beneficiaries back when his wife died, the only way he could get a new beneficiary now is if he got married.

So he talks Chuck into signing up for civil partnership (remember, he owed him - otherwise there's no way in Hell he'd have OH MY GOD ACTUALLY MARRIED A MAN EEW EEW EEW), and they start down the path of their whole gay-marriage charade: Chuck moves into Larry's house, they put up a rainbow flag, they drive up to Canada and get married for realz (by a disturbing pseudo-Asian guy who seems to get voyeuristic thrills from the weddings he performs), they start attending gay parties, the whole nine yards. Along the way, they deal with Larry's gender-nonconformist son, squick out the rest of the firefighting team (with one exception, as follows), inspire a fellow fireman to come out of the closet, punch out an anti-gay protester, and generally come to the realization that being gay is OK after all. At the end, when the fraud is exposed, all the gay people that they've met over the course of the movie cheer for them. Never mind that they lied to everyone; never mind that they exploited the newly-granted rights of second-class citizens for their own gain, never mind that their attitude throughout the entire movie is "it's okay for you to be gay, but for me it's disgusting." Never mind that, as the movie explicitly states, by committing this fraud they're making things harder for all the genuine gay couples who want civil partnerships. They have learned a valuable lesson about gay people and acceptance, and so they are now heroes. Somehow.

The really sad part is that, even though this is supposed to be a movie about how gay people are people too and deserve to be treated as such, the movie is about straight people. Straight people who, from beginning to end, can imagine no worse fate than to be gay. Straight people who waltz into the gay scene, fool everyone despite their obvious disgust for anything resembling physical intimacy for one another (though a threesome with a blow-up doll is apparently okay... yeah) suffer a little bit of discrimination, strike an epic blow for gay people everywhere, and then emerge from the experience more-or-less unscathed. (They do get arrested, but because of the outcry from the gay community the charges end up dropped.) In fact, they come out better for the experience, as Chuck and Larry both find super-hot women that they can start dating now that they're not gay anymore.

Don't be fooled by its appearance. This isn't a movie about gay people, or even about gay acceptance. It's a movie that exploits the lives and problems of actual gay people (and several fake ones) for cheap laughs, without giving them the dignity of an actual voice in the film. (The closest that they get when a gay character speaks up to praise one of the protagonists for their courage/inspiring actions/whatnot.) This movie is, in essence, a straight guilt film - and a bad one at that. (See also "white guilt films," the genre from which this movie gets most of its cues.)

The really sad thing in all of this is that the premise of this movie could have done better. For instance, if the jokes had been less rude and in-your-face; if the main characters had had some actual hesitations about what they were about to do (besides "EEW EEW GAY NASTY"). If they'd actually learned something. If they, instead of the gay community, had been the butt of the movie's jokes. If everything hadn't turned out magically sunshine-and-rainbows (but EEW NOT RAINBOWS EEW GAY) in the end. If they'd accepted that the audience was going to hate the protagonists and ran with it, instead of trying repeatedly to garner our sympathy, it could have worked.

But they couldn't do that. After all, Adam Sander was in this movie, and nothing is more important than his ego.

(Incidentally, what is it with the portrayal of gay black men in comedy films? Did I miss the memo from the black gay community that they're all big, scary-looking men who secretly just want some romance? Naw, I'm nitpicking. This entire movie was so clueless that I shouldn't bother expecting any better.)