one of those.
April 15, 2010, 3:24 am
Filed under: overtly political

My pizza delivery place needs to be cut from the team. I only order pizza once about every three months and every time something happens where I think: stop ordering from them… but then I forget three months later or am too lazy to try and find someone new to deal with who won’t be worse.

This is basically the exact same description I could have used to describe relationships I had with various guys in college. I’ll be over there in the slow learner lane if you’re looking for me.

Tonight I finally watched Jennifer’s Body. Dude, so good. Even the music, cross referencing everything from Hole to Hot Chip.

Yeah, it’s about twenty feminist dissertations waiting to happen, a lot of is it or isn’t it, everyone trying to get the right answer. Even though Megan Fox is scary beautiful in it, like retina searing, all of the touted and promoted sex scenes are a lot less sexy and somehow feel gorier than the actual blood. Contrast that with Amanda Seyfried’s character, whose teenage sex life has the emotional fulfillment of a Dawson’s Creek Season Three episode and yet is demystified by a camera panning her sometimes ambivalent face, the way she doesn’t really connect to what’s going on, and the clear disconnect between the physical and emotional intimacy, and how creeped out she is by her best friend. It’s about sex, but it’s not that sexy. I’m not sure there have ever been two truer twin narratives about sex as a young female person in a movie.

It actually made me reflect on my own perceptions about sexuality at that age. On one hand, there was the aspiration of being dangerously sexy and in control, but anyone inexperienced who’s been in that kind of situation knows that it’s neither sexy nor controlled, and the consequences afterwards can be the stuff of horror flicks. On the other side, you could seek out something steady with shades of epic romance, but when finally faced with the opportunity to turn all of the hormones and emotions into action, he’d have chapped lips. Or you wouldn’t feel anything and it would be apparent that the experience two people were having in the exact same moment was totally divergent (see: first kiss at fifteen; second attempt at it, also fifteen).

As a final note, I appreciated that every male character in the film is “non-masculine.” Virtually all of them resist before the demon reveals herself for what she is, with lines like “do you even know my last name?” or “this just doesn’t feel right.” Not one flips the porno switch and goes mouth breathing or demeaning. Even Adam Brody’s rock star statanist character is neither full of rage, nor swaggering charisma. I don’t think it’s really anti-male, it’s just to take the focus completely away from the male-female dynamic. It’s not a story about what men do to, or for, women.


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