Not Another Superhero Movie: Bridesmaids

In 2007, my friend and I stood up in the wedding the woman who'd been the third of our college Three Musketeers.  We'd been asked nearly two years prior.  Having not been in a wedding since I was eleven years old, I had little to no idea of what I was getting into.

Ah, bridesmaid-ism.  You never forget your first time.

I was fortunate, in that the bride was absolutely wonderful (and I'm not just saying this because she reads my blog).  She was conscious of everyone's body types and budgets, both of which varied greatly from woman to woman.  She let us wear our own shoes (mine were $12 numbers from Payless) and enlisted me to help pick out her wedding shoes (which, unlike throwing bachelorette parties or showers, was something I was comfortable with).  She also gave each bridesmaid a really nice gift, which I still use four years later.  Bride win!

Still, I became intrigued by bridesmaid culture, fascinated by those who had way worse (and more expensive) experiences than my own.  As my broke-ass roommate and I somehow got the We channel, I avidly watched Bridezillas (oh, the screeching!  oh, the judgmental rhyming narrator!  oh, the old-school theme where the bride breathed fire!).  I was fascinated, not just by the harpy brides, but their equally crazy attendants.  What is it about a wedding where spending exorbitant amounts of money and treating your nearest and dearest like dog poo suddenly becomes not only acceptable, but expected?

I have never seen a movie that captures the insanity--not to mention the class warfare, friendship dynamics, and life uncertainty--as skillfully and hilariously as Bridesmaids.

Annie (the phenomenal Kristen Wiig, who also co-wrote the film) is in a slump.  Her bakery business collapsed due to the economy, and now she's stuck in a dead-end job at a jewelry store while sharing a crappy apartment (genuinely crappy, not movie crappy aka still nicer than my apartment) with two odd roommates.  Oh, and her friend-with-benefits Ted (Jon Hamm: yes ladies, he's naked) doesn't like it when she spends the night.  When Annie's best friend Lillian (Maya Rudolph, who really should have a better career) announces her engagement and asks Annie to be her maid of honor, Annie's confronted with financial concerns, life questioning, and the other bridesmaids, who range from Disneyphile newlywed (Ellie Kemper) to desperate housewife (Wendi McLendon-Covey) to just plain weird (Melissa McCarthy) to "I'm a more awesome friend than you" one-upper (Rose Byrne).

Can I just say how all the articles expressing surprise that Bridesmaids is doing so well at the box office just kiiiill me.  Everyone is SO surprised that women who aren't named Tina Fey can actually be funny.  That Yet Another Silly Wedding Movie is raking in almost as much buckage as the latest dumb superhero popcorn flick.  (Don't get me wrong, I love a good superhero movie.  What I don't love is when every other damn new release is about superheroes.)  That--gasp!--both women AND men are turning out in droves and really enjoying themselves.

Well, Hollywood, this is what happens when you greenlight a movie that's actually good.

Because all hilarity and hijinks aside, Bridesmaids is a solid film.  Everything from the Milwaukee setting to the actual wrinkles (!) on the thirtysomething actors to the re-enacting of 90's pop songs (I don't know about you, but I have some sort of dorky dance inside joke with most of my friends) feels genuine and straight out of real life.  Sure, some sequences of defiling expensive gowns and bad reactions to prescription drugs on airplanes are over-the-top, but they're balanced out by scenes dealing with class warfare, dreams deferred, and jealousy of new friends.  There's an early scene, largely improvised by Wiig and Rudolph, where Annie and Lillian are having brunch, which so accurately captures close friends catching up that I felt like I was watching a re-enactment of brunch with any one of my pals.

Just...see this movie.  If you've ever been in a wedding, see this movie.  If you've ever played the comparison game (money, relationships, what have you) with others in your peer group, see this movie.  If you've ever dealt with how a friendship has changed over time, see this movie.  If you want to see the funny overweight lady stereotype turned on its ear, see this movie.  If you like to watch really darling Irishmen be really darling (Chris O'Dowd, I loved you on The IT Crowd and I love you now--I'm single!), see this movie.  If you want to laugh and laugh and laugh while also wanting to cry a little, see this movie.

If you're like me and you're sick of bad comic-book adaptations and silly rom-coms with Katherine Heigl, see this movie.

Just see this movie.

Maybe I'm Ready to Kick a Little Ass: Whip It

Everybody has a split second.

It's almost imperceptible, and often doesn't come to light until many years and life experiences later.  But if you look back really, really hard, you can find the split second where you experienced a clear, perfect vision of the person you wanted to become.

When I was a sophomore acting enthusiast at a teeny-tiny sports-crazy Catholic high school, I road-tripped with some friends to the small city near us (which seemed plenty big compared to our farm town) to see a play.  And not just any play, but a theatrical version of S.E. Hinton's The Outsiders, the first show in the area whose cast and crew was comprised entirely of teenagers.  That night I was feeling brave with my fashion choices and opted to go a little more funky, wearing a headscarf that my mom thought was weird and consequently I adored.  Before the show started, I headed up the aisle so I could go to the bathroom. 

That was my split second.

Because while headed up the aisle, I faced a crowded theatre full of people my age in weird clothes and rainbow-colored hair, all of us in the same place because we loved theatre and loved it even more when it was produced and performed by our peers. 

And from then on, my life cracked open.

That summer, I did my very first outdoor theatre production in that very same small city--with some of the very same people involved in The Outsiders. I discovered bands like They Might Be Giants, indulged my loud mouth, and realized that I wanted more than anything to study theatre.  In a weird twist of fate, I ended up dating The Outsiders' director's brother--who had seen me and my headscarf en route to the bathroom from his vantage point in the lighting booth.  Without even knowing it, he was part of my split second.

Which brings me to Whip It, Drew Barrymore's empowering and incredibly gratifying directorial debut, adapted from Shauna Cross' YA novel.  Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the opening shenanigans, where small-town Texas teen Bliss Cavendar (the glowing Ellen Page) reluctantly participates in a beauty pageant while sporting the "temporary" blue hair color applied by her BFF Pash (Arrested Development's Alia Shawkat, in a long-overdue return to my life).  But the real beauty of the film, for me at least, began when 17-year-old Bliss experienced her split second.  On a trip to Austin with her pageant-princess-turned-postal-worker mom (a pitch-perfect Marcia Gay Harden), Bliss spots three tough, tattooed broads on skates cockily distributing flyers for a roller-derby exhibition.  Bliss' eyes widen, her breath catches, and her face longs for something that until that moment she didn't realize she wanted.  And in the audience, tears of recognition ran down my face because I'd never seen the split second captured that beautifully and accurately.

I'm ecstatic to report that the film just got better from there.

The story's both heartwrenchingly relatable--outcast teen discovers a whole new world outside her sheltered, suffocating environment and learns a lot about herself along the way--and gloriously groundbreaking--said outcast teen learns that in the right situation, it's downright awesome to throw down.  When Bliss declares to her parents that she's in love, she's not referring to her shaggy-haired paramour (real-life musician Landon Pigg), but to her place on the ragtag Hurl Scouts team.  Yes, there are mean girls in every incarnation of Bliss' life--from pageant-queen beeyotches to cheerleader antagonists to a derby rival (Juliette Lewis) who is threatened by her talent--but for every nasty chick, there's a cool single mom (Kristen Wiig, seamlessly blending dry wit and earthy empathy), a fearless female who willingly takes 'em for the team (Drew Barrymore), and a down and dirty New Zealander who's always up for a fist bump or a rough hug (my new girl-crush Zoe Bell--seriously, I want to go drinking with her and stir up some bar brawls).  When Bliss is reluctant to engage in the "contact" of the ultimate contact sport, her teammate encourages her to get angry--because when anger has an appropriate channel, it can lead to glory.  I've been going to movies since I was two, and NEVER have I seen a film where a teenage girl is told that anger is not only normal and acceptable, but a worthwhile emotion.

What's more, holding together the film's many sweeping victories, are lovely, precise little details.  How astoundingly beautiful all the women are, not because of flawless spray tans or perfect hair, but because of skin art (I normally don't agree with neck tattooes, but they really work here), hard-earned muscles, and pride in their scrapes and bruises.  (Even a bloody nose is almost poetic.)  How Bliss and Pash's sweet physicality was a spot-on portrayal of teen girl bestfriendhood.  How a post-derby party finds two members of opposing teams flirting, not to titillate a horny dude (when Jimmy Fallon's crass announcer comes sniffing around, he is promptly sneered at and dismissed by both ladies) but because they genuinely seem into one another.  How it's just accepted that fans stampede the roller derby in eager droves, and paraphernalia sold at games features women's names, team numbers and pictures.

Still not sold?  Alia Shawkat utters the word "shemale."  If you were a fan of Arrested Development, you should be peeing your pants right. about. now.

Finally, I know it's in all the previews and on the poster, but Whip It's message bears not only repeating but adopting as your personal, universal life motto: Be Your Own Hero.  And the way it's presented is fantastic in its simplicity.  There's no obvious Oscar clip, no paint-by-numbers inspiraspeech.  It's uttered almost offhandedly by Kristen Wiig's character, after Bliss professes her admiration for the derby girls.  "Be your own hero."  She's not flippant, but casual, presenting the advice as a goal well within reach.  Of course taking that advice isn't easy, but it's entirely within the realm of possibility.  There's a scary amount of wisdom in those four words, and in the film itself. 

I'm recommending you see Whip It harder than I've ever recommended anything on this blog.  You won't regret it, I promise.  On that note, why are you still sitting here?  Relive your split second, lace up your Barbie skates and GO.