I once vomited on a first date. And it had nothing to do with tequila, like the previous time that happened. It was the guy’s fault; he took me to see one of those Bourne Identity movies, I forget which one – pick a number between one and eleventy.
I managed to get the first three quarters of the flick down, but then I had to run for the porcelain towards the end. That movie is 98% bloody chase and crash scenes, shot with a super-shaky hand-held camera. For me it simulated falling down a flight of stairs for an hour and a half, while on a ship in stormy seas. Hardly the most romantic first date in history. Needless to say, the guy didn’t stick around to get lucky on the third date.
Picking a date movie early on in a relationship is a decision fraught with almost as many obstacles and potential train smashes as that stupid Bourne movie. As a woman, you don’t want to come across as the kind of date who refuses to watch anything but chick flicks. But you also need to ensure that you don’t lead a guy on and pretend you love dick flicks, just to get into his pants. Otherwise you’ll find yourself on the receiving end of every skop, skiet and donder, or worse, every superhero reboot that ever hits the big screen. Seriously, how many more Batmans, Supermans and Spidermans do you need, guys? Spoiler alert; bitten by a radioactive spider, doesn’t like kryptonite and something or other gay to do with Robin. Surely we all already know what’s going to happen?
You don’t want to come across as an art-house movie fan either. Just in case your date ends up being a keeper and you wind up having to read all your movies from then on. Subtitles are great every now and then, but I prefer my movies read to me, by the actors.
So where does that leave us? Pornos are out, at least for a first date. Nothing makes me want to have sex less than a sci-fi movie. And I’m told some girls like the Star Wars movies, but they must have bigger bladders than me. Anyone for Shrek 17?
HE SAID – By Jason Mykl Snyman
This is Jason, with his eyes wide open.
Recipe for Chick Flick:
Take one small-town-girl trying to make it in the big city. Add the male childhood friend who is secretly in love with her. Stir in a couple of sassy chicks with bad ideas. Throw in one over-moussed hunk with a dazzling smile and a six-pack. Also, over-moussed hunk probably has a girlfriend. Small-town-girl falls for the hunk, because he has those abdominal v-lines which turn smart girls dumb. And small-town-girl will probably learn a lot about herself and figure out that she was, in fact, deserving of true love all along, all the time ignoring her childhood friend, who may or may not hang himself before the end. Bake until golden.
Recipe for Guy Film:
Boobs and exploding helicopters.
Anybody on a fire escape is bullet-proof.
A few weeks ago I was watching what I assumed to be the longest tampon commercial in the history of television. An hour in, I realized that it was, in fact, the Sex And The City movie. The problem with chick-flicks is that they are boring, predictable and in many ways impracticable. As I pointed out in our Pornography article, these films give young women unrealistic expectations, because Real Life doesn’t work that way. The only movie character you should be taking love advice from is that French candlestick from Beauty and the Beast.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not too thrilled about Michael Bay ruining my childhood one movie at a time either. Action flicks have men acting in ridiculous ways – such as imagining everything you do happens in slow-motion and at sixty years old you can still leap through a 9th floor paned-glass window of a burning building. Ever tried to slide across the hood of your car? Made a right tit of yourself, didn’t you?
Things need to change, we need more Jerry Maguire’s, because I’m sooooo sick of having to watch well-acted, superbly written, structured, original, tastefully directed art-films.
At least now the new all-female Ghostbusters is out, which, let’s face it, is confusing the hell out of all the Expendables fans.