Monday, 17 December 2018

This Fucking Movie

I'm done talking about this movie. Seriously. I don't want to ever talk about it again. It's the only piece of celluloid that I truly hate, and this coming from someone who saw Nazi propaganda films in college film appreciation class, Faces of Death with some college roommates. I assume people think it's funny to engage with me about it - to poke the bear - because they think my reasons for hating it are a matter of taste, snobbery maybe, or because they assume my reasons for hating it are frivolous.

I don't hate Love, Actually because I think it's silly, or because it steals its best scene from another lesser known filmmaker, or because its fluff, or because its ridiculous, or because no one gets axe-murdered in it. It's mostly because it hates you and you gobble it up. You're in a relationship with an abusive boyfriend, and as truly offensive to abused spouses as that comment is, it's the most accurate allegory I can make. I've seen cynical filmmaking before, even loved some of it, but your entertainment in this case thinks you're shit.

I know how crazy this sounds (It's just a movie), but discussing it actually causes me anguish. I literally forget that it exists, and then come December, well meaning people start sharing their love for this, the Donald Trump of rom-coms, all over my Facebook timeline. Some start poking me about it in order to get an over the top reaction. Sigh.

Everything you enjoy about this movie, everything, makes me see the figurative Trump supporter in you, willing to believe anything it says for God knows what reason. It grabs you by the pussy and you think that's okay... because it's cute. 

If I said to you, "Shut up. You're fat. Go fetch me a meal" would you think I'm cute? That's what this movie says. Whatever else you might think it says, this is its core. It might sweet talk you when it's not abusing you, but it will still say, "Hey ladies, give up whatever is important to you for my needs, okay?" Is that still cute?

Love, Actually is the only movie in existence that I loathe and that brings out such deep feelings of hatred and confusion in me that even I don't fully understand it. I think it has a lot to do with how smart people are drawn to it. Such harmless entertainment. Makes them feel good. By telling you that women are shit. Ha, ha. Such a good joke. Forget the film's shoddy storytelling and thievery. I get that it's a fantasy. But if you're a woman, this film doesn't like you. Regardless of viewer gender, this movie hates women, and that's fucked. Isn't that enough to make you sick when you watch it? 

I always feel like Miles at the end of the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers, running down the freeway trying to warn people, being totally ignored, when I engage with other people about this movie. 

Yeah, it should exist, yeah people should watch it if they want, but watch it fully. Understand the shit that's being flung in your face. Think about what you're supporting. Think about the lies you're buying. If it still entertains you, makes you feel good, then so be it. It might only be a movie, but it's an ugly and sick one. It's greatest trick is that you'll find excuses to like it. That's where I give it props - the very people it hates are its biggest fans. How in the hell did director Richard Curtis pull that off??? If it were intentional, if Paul Verhoeven made this, it would be a fucking subversive masterpiece. 

I'm sorry if I've offended anyone here. Some people I love dearly are fans of this movie, but I just finally - with Love, Actually making it's ninth appearance on my Facebook timeline this season - had to have my definitive say about it, and get on with my day-to-day. Love, Actually, you're dead to me. 

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