Love Story 1, Skanky Hoe 0

I turned down a skanky hoe last night. Yay me!

An odd girl that I met soon after arriving here (who hopefully doesn't know that I blog) called me up around 10.30pm. She was driving. She was cussing mad at her redneck boyfriend and she asked if I wanted to go dancing "now". Ignoring for a moment that there's nowhere good to go dancing downtown, I had a vision of me listening to her complain for three hours just to get some play. I said no and gave some advice about her boyfriend issues.

Do I respect myself more these days, or am I just getting better at detecting trouble at the outset? Whatever, I stayed home and watched The Village instead.

So many people were critical of that movie, I was able to thoroughly enjoy it. The problem of hype and expectation is exacerbated with a Night Shyamalan movie because, since The Sixth Sense, the audience expects a big twist. As a writer-director, what do you do? Twist? Double-twist? Fake-out twist? Try something original and everyone will say the great M. Night has lost it. I'm not sure you can win when your audience is expecting to be surprised. That's a self-defeating frame of mind and makes about as much sense as your XO telling you to "expect the unexpected".



Sure, Ramalamadingdong manipulates your sense of danger with a minimalist approach to sound design and some really tight framing - so you often can't see what's right next to Ivy, who is blind - but his writing is so sharp I forgive him these "tricks of the trade". His characters don't avoid the burning plot questions, which often happens in movies to prolong the tension (think The Ring, The Grudge, or The X-Files on TV). He takes a simple idea and explores every single facet. Despite being a part of the summer blockbuster line-up, his scripts are the antithesis of many Hollywood movies which aim to entertain through spectacle and distraction. I like his stuff.

I guessed a large part of the ending before the movie even started. Maybe I liked this movie because it made me feel smart? Or maybe because I have a soft spot for unconventional love stories like this, Solaris, and Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind?

Ivy: "Why won't you say what's in your head?"
Lucius: "Why won't you stop saying what's in yours?"

That's right, ladies... I'm sensitive, single and I don't pick up scraps anymore. Unless they're really hot. Or it's a bet. And we don't speak of such things.