Friday 24 September 2010

Oh, Hollywood

Dear Hollywood,

I'm writing this to tell you how confusing you have made my and, I'm sure, others' life. There are so many questions you’ve put in our heads:

1) Is life meant to be poignant like in 'American Beauty' or is it all basically a load of shits and giggles? I stared at a crisp packet for a long time. When I realised it was a cheese and onion one I thought 'this is definitely being filmed' but then people started whispering and I heard 'fetish' more than once. Ricky Fitts is not the only misunderstood, artistic soul.

2) Where are these men that I fall in love with every time I go to the cinema - and why do they fall in love with annoying women like Rose DeWitt Bukater? Do they not ever hang out in East London? I own granny pants just like Bridget Jones and have yet to find someone who finds that attractive. Hugh Grant, please, let's rendezvous.

3) Are there any evening classes I can take to learn how to speak that poetically? Also, perhaps I'm a prude but is it really necessary for Kat to cry in front of a class in '10 Things I Hate About You'? What happened to pride? I thought modern Hollywood is obsessed with aesthetics and looking good. She looks terrible.

4) Should I consider an explosion normal, and never bother turning around or say 'FUCK!' when I feel a slight burning sensation on the back of my head? Maybe in comparison to your protagonists I've lived a sheltered life.

5) I know stereotypes exist because they have truth in them but I have never met a magical black person before. Magical people in Hollywood are always black like that guy in 'The Green Mile' or the Oracle in 'The Matrix' (obviously bar Harry Potter because the wizarding community is not so elitist). Where do I find these magi?

I could do with some help resurrecting the mouse that burnt to death in the explosion which distracted me from the good looking chap who I could have wooed with the vast Shakespeare quotes my English degree has forced me to absorb, across the road.

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