Waring: This is a movie rant. Basically, I spent Easter Sunday watching FX.
I envy those families who get together every holiday, have barbeques, and watch some traditional movie together. My family basically loathe each other and/or live too far away to have a get-together for any holiday. But it was my mom's birthday yesterday too, so we went to an expensive sushi restaurant in Oakland. When we got back home, she was tired and wanted to go rest. Anyway, I was rather bored so I turned on the TV. The Hot Chick (Tom Brady, 2002) was on. (This is Tom Brady the DIRECTOR, not Tom Brady the football player.)
I can only ask one question: Why does Rob Schneider keep doing this to himself? This man is rich and famous enough not to humiliate himself by dressing in tight pink t-shirts and underwear. I don't think I even have to write a review about this movie because well, take a look at the trailer. Whatever negative things that went through your mind during your viewing of the movie's trailer, it was going through my mind during the entire movie.
There are a few obnoxiously funny moments, the kind of humor that makes you cringe your teeth and tighten your eyebrows. The movie is completely crude and disgusting, yet it tries so hard to be suddenly sweet and sentimental.
The only wonderfully positive thing that this movie contains is Rachel McAdams as the "hot chick" Schneider's character switch bodies with. Oh, and I was sort of entertained.
I have a confession to make. Actually, it's more of a story regarding a dumb pre-teen fantasy. When I was eleven-years-old, I watched My Girl, a sweet little family movie about a girl's coming-of-age. Since then, I had always wished that my childhood sweetheart lived next door to me and totally worshiped me. Of course, I wouldn't notice how wonderful he is until I go through the obstacles of a typical clueless girl who falls in love with the wrong guy, get my heart broken, and realize that the adorable kid next door has been pretty much in love with me all along.
Sadly, that never happened to me--one of the few reasons why my life will never become the central subject of a movie (haha). To this day, my house lies between the homes of two single middle-aged women. This is why I indulge in the guilty pleasures of a pathetically conventional romantic comedy.
I guess my pre-teen fantasy attributed to the fact why I enjoyed 13 Going on 30 (Gary Winick, 2004) more than I should have. It's one of the few recent romantic comedies that I've seen that shares the cutesy charm of the romantic comedies of the 90s. Jennifer Garner and Mark Ruffalo is sort of an unlikely couple, but it works. But the film isn't without flaws. Unlike Tom Hanks in Big, Garner doesn't act like a thirteen-year-old inhabitant of an adult body. Then again, Garner is such a likable actress that her lack of childlike innocence is entirely forgivable.
In fact, I actually like 13 Going on 30 more than Big. I guess comparisons of these two movies can be found anywhere (i.e. IMDb) but I just want to give my two cents: Before I saw Big, I actually thought that the boy was going to travel to the future to see how his life would be like when he becomes an adult--but that wasn't what Big was about. So I definitely prefer the time-travel plot device in 13 Going on 30. I guess the reason to my preference is also because I'm a girl and 13 Going on 30 is an ultimate girl's movie. Plus, I like to jam to "Jessie's Girl" and "Why Can't I" in the corner of my closet, with the lights turned off, and the door closed...well, not really, but I sometimes fantasize about that too.