Friday, May 15, 2009
Movie Review: How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days
As Jaime was out of town for a week, I found myself in an predicament: entertain myself while without spending a dime – I’ll have more expenses then I care to admit once we buy our new town home. I didn’t eat out the entire week she was gone, always packed my lunch and cooked at home. I found myself rummaging through her DVDs over the weekend and popped in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days starring Mathew Mcconaughey and some blond chick.
This complex modern kinda sorta adaptation of Guys & Dolls reveals a dark underbelly of the young urban professional life and is a bold whistle blowing expose’ to the tough reality of what it’s really like in the advertising biz. Or none of that stuff. Mcconaughey plays Benji-boo-boo (or something), a Manhattan ad man. A Creative Director? Account Guy? Who knows, but he worked with an art director that acts just like some copywriters here at CP+B, and a copywriter that acts just like some golf caddies I know. Benji-wenji’s Soho loft made me a tad covetous and his silver and black Triumph Bonneville motorcycle, paired with the sunny spring weather here in Colorado, reminded me I want one, bad.
“Blond chick” made me glad I’m not dating anymore and that Jaime’s not insane. Yes, I realize I could acquire “blond chick’s” name from IMDB in an interwebular nanoflash, but “blond chick” is funnier, you know it, and I’m much too proud and progressive of a movie reviewer to use such an archaic crutch as IMDB. Puh-leez.
Lessons learned from How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days: Chicks dig motorcycles, courtside NBA Finals Knicks tickets grow on trees like lollipops (don’t think about the logic of this analogy too much), and all’s fair in love and war...and advertising, but I already knew that (pay no mind, FTC big brother, I kid).
All in all I give it two thumbs up and two big toes down down out of 5 gold stars. That’s the apples to oranges ratio equivalent of a B-, which would allow you to get into UC Santa Cruz and have a relatively lucrative career as a botanist/self-promoted author but maybe not UCLA with a fanciful career as a screenwriter. Unless you transfer as a Junior and know the dean of admissions, which – I do. He reads my movie reviews when his wife is out of town and he’s bored.