I am about to embark on a home inflicted cinematic journey that may single handedly destroy my proverbial relationship with Spike Lee. Yes...that's right...I'm going to watch "She Hate Me", the film I have been told repeatedly may do exactly what I just said thereby robbing me of all black film love eternally. I was about to say that is an exaggeration but let's be real, what is my alternative without Spike in the number one slot...Tyler Perry?...that my friends is another post . One I do not have the strength to write at 11pm with a red stripe by my side and a gnawing headache developing (anticpation? nerves? red stripe overdose?, who knows?)
13 jaw slacking minutes have tumble-weeded out of my life. Thus far the script is stiff as cardboard, the music is infuriating straight to TV white America (think Saved by The Bell reunion special in Florida) and it all seems to resemble a paltry Neil Labute play...without the sex and fiery diatribes...but apparently that's all to come...which is why I have volunteered my saturday night to watch this snapshot of near career suicide. I get that he needed to make a big film, with big names. I get that he wanted to spread his wings into some edgy yet universally appealing territory, what i don't get people is why having pressed pause at the 6 minute mark I can see a man about to jump from his high rise office window to his death after a perfectly pleasant if not stilted convo about the correct age to marry. Random. Not in a David Lynch "OOOOHHH, that's thought provoking in an endlessly open kinda way" no NO it's just RANDOM....and irritatingly incongrous...and kinda boring... my mind can't rouse itself to wonder why this silly little man with a silly little accent has decided to fling himself out of this film...my only guess is that...
Couldn't summon the motivation to finish the sentence above...sorry...the words just never made it past the haze of aural displeasure...
"the other one's for you, so you can dream of Tahiti"
WHO SAYS THAT TO SOME HALF PRETTY ASSISTANT WHO BRINGS YOU YOUR MORNING COFFEE AND DOESNT EVEN HAVE THE DECENCY TO WIPE THE GRIZZLE OFF HER CHIN FROM LUNCH?!
If I could find a picture I would.
I've been flung into a thriller against my will, the characters all seem to be making the sounds that would indicate intrigue and yet all i am understanding is that Spike as a writer seems to have reversed all the appropriate sign posts at every point in this movie so far. The heart to heart at the beginning, rather than being the intellectual banter Spike blew open the world with in Do the Right Thing and Mo Better Blues is heavy handed, forced, unnaturally formal and ermmmm meaningless?!...the magically emergence of so called scandal that follows is punctuated with obscenities that seem misplaced and unnecessary. From Ellen Barkin, I expect hard nosed, I expect blatant sexuality, what I did not expect was Ellen Barkin playing at disgruntled sex worker in Bedsty pretending to be a woman in a corporate position....am confused...and my now instinctive reaching for the red stripe has left me callously lacking in the alcohol department...am not sure I can see this movie through to it's hopefully (please God...please...jesus be a threesome) squirt worthy end.
"Get the fuck out of my office"
Ellen...please...girl...it's really not that deep...I've been on this ride with you lot for all of 25 minutes and I'm not that overexcited about anything happening so far...The Nixon Tapes this is not.
When in sweet jesus' name is Kerry Washington going to kiss Dania Ramirez and make this soft porn...wait a minute...HOLD UP...he opens the door to "Damn...still fine" the film noir musaaac and kerry's little black suit aint going to make this film noir...junky obvious nonsensical plot and junky obvious lines that seemingly come out of nowhere are neither noirish or comedic...WHAT IS THIS FILM TRYING TO BE?! ps: am starting to get that pulsing feeling IN MY BRAIN...it's called feminist rage...how stupid can Spike Lee make women sound in spite of power shoulders, mercenary fertility methods and non conventional definitons of themselves
("you're lesbians right?"
(in unison) We're businesswomen")
thus far...am not feeling very sexy...this makes me angry...could be fucking my boyfriend...ok he's ill and I'm not able...which is why I am here...with Kerry...(one thing this film has achieved is in luring me into a girl crush on kerry that puts me in a category with most of humanity...now i get it) waiting for a scene that will alleviate my sexual frustration..I didn't believe I'd have to pay a price so high for that 10 minute window of gratification...i didnt realise id have to watch so much booooya pre sexy time...DAMN. the moral of the story is sometimes in the dead of the night, in the merciless onslaught of rain and under the heady spell of too much red stripe its better to walk that 10 mins to the bus stop get on the *&$ and go to your man's abode and talk about Guantanamo Bay or Jordan's vile treatment of Peter Andre and not watch "She Hate Me" in the hope of relieving some tension...Ever. The moral of this story is to above all things never injure your humanity and punish your artistic sensibility with something you know is going to be garbage from a 2 minute clip you found on Youtube...yea, so the kiss may have got you horny...but even midst "hmmm...that's kinda niiiiaaaccce" and a vague tightening in the nether regions, if you clearly remember thinking things such as "lawd have mercy...but...but... that's so fucking stupid...who talks like this?!!"...well...it's clearly time to reconsider. Soft porn should be painless, thoughtless, easy?! what it should not do is force you to think...anything.