This Is the Girl: Jennifer's Body

I'm sure you've heard.

For months and months, there was hype about Jennifer's Body, Diablo Cody's female-driven follow-up to Juno.  And then . . . there was anti-hype.  Terrible reviews.  Abysmal box office.  So much of both that I who had really been looking forward to it (as a fan of both Cody and cheesy horror films) decided not to see it in the theatre.  In fact, the reason I saw it at all is because my friend Bob was visiting from L.A. and bought the DVD for cheap.

I fully expected to MST3K Jennifer's Body into ironic oblivion.

But you know what?  I kinda liked it.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you know the basic plot: after an inflammatory night out, Needy Lesnicki (Amanda Seyfried) finds that her beautiful, popular BFF Jennifer Check (Megan Fox) is acting bloodthirsty--and not in the bitchy teenage girl way.  Cue blood, boobie shots, and Megan Fox saying things like "I go both ways" so fourteen-year-old boys everywhere can get hard-ons.

And yes, there's much ridiculosity to be witnessed in Jennifer's Body.  Much of which originates with Megan Fox.  After careful analysis (and by analysis I mean me and Bob going back and forth going, "woooow, she's terrible"), I have arrived at the following conclusion: I'm not sure what the casting directors were going for (besides, well, the aforementioned fourteen-year-old boy hard-ons).  I mean, for most of the movie, Jennifer is technically lifeless, so Fox's wooden performance might have been--a good decision?  On the other hand, I do wonder what a better actress would have done with the role.  Would it have been jacked-up nasty, or just overdone?

Anyhoo, forget the Fox.  Here's who I liked best in Jennifer's Body:

Amanda Friggin' Seyfried, yo.  As far as I'm concerned, this girl can do no wrong.  I know she first really broke out on the scene as dimwit self-fondler/weathergirl Karen in Mean Girls, which no doubt is a fantastic film in its own right.  However, Seyfried had my heart after her season the title character's murdered best friend on Veronica Mars.  Lilly Kane may have only appeared in flashbacks, but she packed quite the punch: rich, fun-loving, loyal and a little bit bitchy.  In other words, exactly what anyone wants in a high school best friend.  (And OMG, gorgeous.  I wish she hadn't gone through the requisite Hollywood weight loss--those curves were bangin'.)

Seyfried just keeps getting awesomer: sure, Mamma Mia! was glittery garbage, but she has a lovely voice and her Sophie had a winningly winsome presence.  And yes, I truly liked Dear John.  (Shut up.  Channing Tatum is fiiiiine and I may or may not have enjoyed the book.)  It's funny: while Seyfried was great in Mean Girls, she didn't really stand out to me then (hell, Lindsay Lohan was still The One to Watch, and Rachel McAdams was coming into her own star power).  I couldn't be happier that her career has proven me wrong.

Anyway, Seyfried's character Needy is a badass.  Don't let the name (short for Anita) fool you.  She tries to be a good friend until Jennifer's just too damn possessed for it to be possible.  She has a sweet boyfriend (and a sex drive!), but isn't defined by him.  And especially at the beginning and end, girl kicks some serious butt.  I swear, after the movie I wanted to go around screaming "I recommend you shut the fuck up!" and kicking, but my roommate expressed a desire to, you know, not have the police called on us.  Believe me, even when Megan Fox/Jennifer gets annoying, Jennifer's Body is worth watching for Needy.

Did I mention that she wears glasses?  I love me some fierce bespectacled females.  Even if there are demons involved.

Bob's favorite part: the line "you give me such a wettie."  While for me this brings up images of Wet Ones (those baby butt-wipes), Bob pointed out that "there's not really a female equivalent for the term 'woody.'"  Unlike in Juno, where Cody's twee pop culture-y phrases are backed up by real substance, Jennifer's Body's dialogue reeks of superficiality.  However, some of  it works: not just the "wettie" line, but how Needy and Jennifer refer to each other as "Monistat" and "Vagisil."  I distinctly remember in high school when my friends and I came up with stupidly "dirty" nicknames for one another (Valerie Vagina in the house, yo!).  Basically, yes, Cody's writing borders on over-the-top, but there are still some gems here.  Don't give up on her yet.

So I know it got a lot of hate critically and at the box office, some of which was definitely deserved.  But as inconsistent as it is, Jennifer's Body is worth the rental.  If nothing else, we're supporting the scribe behind the Sweet Valley High revamp.  And what could be awesomer than that?

P.S.  Guess who's going to be writing for TVGasm?  Thanks to all who voted!  And don't worry, the bloggy fun will continue here!

Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon (Sorry): Ginger Snaps

So I haven't seen Jennifer's Body yet.  Most likely I will--if you've ever read this blog, you know that I like Diablo Cody, haters be damned.  (And yes, I'm super excited about her involvement in the Sweet Valley High movie.  Far better it's helmed by someone who actually read the books when they were popular--and has a healthy sense of irony--than a clueless male Hollywood suit.)  Don't get me wrong: I've heard enough conflicting reviews of the film to want to form my own opinion.  I'm just waiting till it's been out for another week and I can use my discount card at a certain theatre chain and see it for $5. 

In the meantime, however, I thought I'd dedicate this week's post to another teen-girl horror comedy, a cult Canadian piece that's been recommended to me for years and whose title has resurfaced in the blogosphere amid the Jennifer's Body hype.  I'm talking of course about Ginger Snaps.

Sophomore year of college, I developed a weird fascination with Canadian accents.  Because I was an annoying theatre major, I'd even speak in one from time to time.  Probably had something to do with the Kids in the Hall reruns that aired on Comedy Central every afternoon.  That same year, I developed insomnia and discovered IMDb, leading to my bizarre talent for identifying obscure character actors.  So when I popped in Ginger Snaps, imagine my double dose of ecstasy: not only did the film contain "aboot"'s and "soh-ry"'s galore, BUT one of the two female leads is portrayed by Emily Perkins, best known to me as the surly women's clinic receptionist in Juno, who dryly informs Ellen Page of her affinity for boysenberry prophylactics.  Win-WIN!

The basic plot rundown: Brigitte (Perkins) and her sister Ginger (Katharine Isabelle) are intelligent and imaginative teenage girls with a long-running suicide pact and a fascination with acting out gory death scenarios in elaborate photo shoots.  Needless to say, their baggy clothes and goth sensibilities don't do them any favors when facing their classmates or their well-meaning but clueless mom (Mimi Rogers).  Meanwhile, a growling, toothy presence has made itself known in their small town by ravaging neighborhood dogs.  While sneaking out to play a prank, Ginger gets her period for the first time and seconds later has an unfortunate run-in with the creature whom Brigitte suspects is a lycanthrope.  And from then on, all hell breaks loose.

First impression?  I haven't seen a film this unapologetically bloody since The Descent (which I adored not only for its kickass freakiness but its 99% female cast).  If you don't even like to look at your own paper cuts, I'd suggest you avoid Ginger Snaps and its buckets of very realistic goo.  In fact, blood is almost its own character: it splatters, splashes, undulates and perhaps most terrifyingly, begins with an innocent trickle down Ginger's leg that starts the whole deliciously creepy ordeal.

My very favorite aspect of the film, though, is its unapologetic feminist intelligence.  Not only are two teenage girls front and center in the narrative, but they're far from passive and one-dimensional.  Brigitte grows gradually more horrified at the changes in her sister and former best friend, but for the majority of the film, Ginger is scared too: a burst of self-awareness that's not only rare in the horror genre but with adolescent female characters.  (Interesting, because one could argue that teenage girls have the most self-awareness of anyone.)  Also, Brigitte largely takes it upon herself to "cure" Ginger of her affliction--yes, she seeks assistance from cute drug dealer Sam, but when it comes to the final showdown, Brigitte is left on her own to make the ultimate decision of Ginger's fate.  And though Ginger commits a lot of bad, bad deeds as her transformation becomes complete, anyone who was tormented by mean girls in the past will heartily applaud when she kicks the queen bee's ass on the hockey field.

You don't have to be a bastion of literary criticism to know that Ginger's post-menstrual animorph from sullen teen to deadly werewolf is an allegory for puberty.  All it takes is a rush of blood and a doggie attack and Ginger becomes unrecognizable to Brigitte: mysterious pains, unwanted hair in unmentionable places, and scariest of all, a sexual magnetism and intense aggression.  Ginger alternately relishes and loathes these changes, but is increasingly powerless to stop them.  And the cliffhanger ending ultimately leaves Brigitte with a complex choice--to eviscerate her destructive sister but ultimately face life alone, or to join Ginger's uncontrollable, hirsute ranks and forever be regarded as a freak by society.  Not only do the cons outweigh the pros in either scenario, but viewers--particularly those with ovaries--know the truth: once your body bleeds for five days and doesn't die, there really is no going back.

Ginger Snaps is unique.  Girls who want more than boys and take care of each other, symbolism as pervasive as the gobs o' goo, and plenty of dark laughs along the way.  (And Canadians!)

Definitely not your mama's horror movie.

Selfless, Cold and Composed: The Girlfriend Experience

Back in high school, my boyfriend and I went to see a movie. I think it was The Big Lebowski. Anyway, there was a preview for some Belle de Jour wannabe, where the main character had to class herself up (read books and such) to be what amounted to a high-class hooker. A courtesan, she called it. My boyfriend found this hilarious, and proceeded to narrate his own version of the trailer in a high-pitched English accent. (Remember, we were 17 and 18 at the time--this passed for humor. Hell, it's still kinda funny.) I just thought the whole idea was stupid. A prostitute is a prostitute, right? (Cue Chef from South Park and his hilarious ditty about ladies of the night.) You have sex, you get paid. Doesn't matter how educated or well-dressed or awesome you are. Or does it?


The Girlfriend Experience, Steven Soderbergh's new experimental drama, explores that issue in a surprisingly non-graphic, strangely timely and semi-meta way. Was it a flawless piece of awesomeness, worthy of every indie award in the book? No. Was it haunting, disturbing, and really, really interesting? Definitely.


Here's the non-spoiler-rific plot: Chelsea/Christine (she is called both in the course of the movie) is young, gorgeous and smart. She shares a to-die-for NYC apartment with her devoted, enterprising boyfriend, wears beautiful clothes, and brunches and drinks with the best of 'em. The catch? Chelsea is a prostitute. But not just any prostitute: she caters to high society dudes, e.g. Gotham moguls, L.A. screenwriters, Jewish business owners. In other words, suits. Many of them are married, some of them have kids, at least one of them has a wife who not only knows about Chelsea, but has become, um, intimately acquainted with her. She rides around in an elegant black car with an unseen driver to dark bars, bright restaurants and high-class hotels, and narrates her exploits in terms of what she wore (down to the designer undies), what they talked about (her clients often recommend where Chelsea should invest her money and what Presidential candidate she should vote for), and what they did (she basically serves as a talk therapist for one particularly neurotic gentleman).



According to the trivia page on IMDb, an escort who promises a "girlfriend experience" goes beyond the normal services. She's essentially a companion--if we're to use period-film language, more of a courtesan than a whore. She will also do things such as deep kissing and other intimacies that lower-rent red-light district regulars won't provide.


Chelsea's been with her live-in boyfriend about a year and a half, and he understands what she does--at the end of the day, she comes home to him. She has a good friend in the same line of work who knows where she's coming from. Recently, a journalist has become interested in her experiences and is interviewing her for an article. Overall, she's cool and detached--until two complications arise.


One, the economy is in the crapper. (The entire 80-something minute film takes place over a period of five days in late October 2008--so it's timely now but destined to be a dated period piece.) Chelsea keeps business records and has a website, but doesn't exactly charge JT LeRoy truck-stop rates. In other words, she's pretty expensive, in a time when recreational budgets are falling by the wayside. And there are always new chicks on the scene who are younger, thinner and probably cheaper than she.


Two, Chelsea gets a call from a potential client, and they connect on a personal level. Chelsea likes most of her clients. However, she likes this guy. And what's more--based on an analysis of his birth date and stats that she calls "personology," Chelsea thinks the relationship could progress beyond a simple transaction. When he asks her to go away for a weekend (completely against her policy), should she risk her steady relationship with a man who blew off a boys-only weekend in Vegas because she was uncomfortable with it? Or should she throw caution to the wind, possibly leaving the "girlfriend" life behind?


Told in snippets going forward and backward in time, The Girlfriend Experience can be a little hard to follow. With her deadpan voice and large, blank eyes, Chelsea is essentially a white screen on which her clients can project whatever they want. She's not spunky or sarcastic, at times she's not very likable. Her customers aren't hot--they're neurotic and hairy. And her boyfriend may be tolerant, but he has his limits--and I had to ask myself what kind of person would be okay with a significant other who sells sex for a living.


So why did I like this movie? Essentially, it is fair. I don't mean so-so, I mean just. Face it, the sex industry is fascinating--read Candy Girl or The Vagina Monologues. Not every woman goes into it with daddy issues and a drug problem: many are college-educated, enterprising, and conscious of the decisions they are about to make. Morality aside, it's a business, with its own ups and downs--and it, too, is affected by a bad economy.


Chelsea is who she is. We're never told how she got into this line of work, and we know she aspires to own a fashion boutique, but that's pretty much it. She eats brunch, she buys clothes. When her personal feelings start interfering with work, she gets into trouble. Just like most of us at some point or another.


Soderbergh doesn't glamorize the sex industry, nor does he exploit it. There's no nudity, and we only see underwear a few times. Yeah, the dialogue is pretty frank, as you'd expect--but there are no sex scenes. There's one hug, and one kiss, the latter between Chelsea and her boyfriend, that the viewer sees. The rest? Behind closed doors, and left to the imagination. It's incredibly effective, like Hitchcock with lace panties. (There's a mental image.)


In an inspired bit of casting, Sasha Grey plays Chelsea. I had no idea who Sasha Grey was until this movie came out. Turns out, Sasha Grey is a 21-year-old who has made some interesting career decisions of her own: not only is she a prominent porn actress, but she has made her reputation doing things that are very hardcore. She represents herself, has her own agency in L.A., has been featured on Tyra, and is working on a documentary about being a young porn star (she started at age 18). Like Chelsea, she's a self-made woman who saw a niche and sought to fill it (no pun intended). Unlike, say, someone like Gwyneth Paltrow or Vanessa Hudgens, Sasha Grey is familiar with the industry of the character she's portraying. Very intimately so.


Do I recommend this movie? Yes. It's not for the faint of heart, but it's a fresh and profound glimpse into the world's oldest profession. In a word, The Girlfriend Experience is stimulating. Intellectually, people. Intellectually.