The Blonde Leading the Blind


Who’s Watching the Watchmen?
March 8, 2009, 9:27 pm
Filed under: The Adventures, The Blonde, The Flicks, The Husband | Tags: , ,

Had Spider-Husband and I written our own vows for our wedding day, his list would no doubt have included a “to attend opening weekend of all comic book-based films and to strive to understand the deeper symbolism and life lessons bestowed upon us by the hardships endured by superheroes everywhere” somewhere in the text…probably right after the whole loving and cherishing stuff.  So it was with great excitement and the standard distrust my husband, the Marvel man, reserves for all things DC that we headed to a matinee showing of the long-awaited “Watchmen” release this weekend.

Potential spoiler alert…aka a tidbit someone could have let me in on in before the film started.

Watch men, indeed.  Coulda’ named the movie “Watch Billy Crudup’s Glowing Blue Penis at 2000 Times It’s Natural Size” and given us all a little heads up, so to speak, so that one could at least brace themselves before seeing that bad boy light up the big screen.  In all fairness, it’s not as if I came unprepared.  And, a prude I am not.  I read reviews.  I knew the film barely qualified for its “R” rating.  I was ready for the extreme acts of violence.  And, I’d even vowed not to wince when “Hey! Isnt’ that Denny from Grey’s Anatomy?” gets snuffed in the opening scene.  But, Dr. Manhattan’s member dangling in my face for over 160 minutes…well, let’s just say I didn’t see that coming.

Apparently neither did the multiple families in the theater, who after seeing the very dark previews on TV coupled with the big ol’ “No one under the age of 17 admitted without a parent or guardian” rating, still thought this was the perfect family film to take their grade-school children to on a nice Saturday afternoon.  Seriously.  It did provide interesting pre-movie banter for Spider-Husband and me as we laid out our bets for how many shootings, assaults, and graphic murders it would take before Mom or Dad ran out of the theater rapidly dragging their horrified 8-year-olds along by the arm.  Had we know real-live penis was involved, we  definitely would have upped the stakes.  But, as it turns out, there are few things in this world that would cause a Midwestern Mom and Dad in the middle of an economic recession to sacrifice that eight-buck-a-head cost of admission.  Not even a big blue dick. Every single one of ‘em rode it out.  To the end, baby.  Seriously.

So in summary…fantastic opening credit sequence, graphic violence, penis, penis, very intriguing plot line, random violence, more graphic violence, penis, penis, the plot continues to thicken, penis, gratuitous violence, penis, whoa – didn’t see that coming, penis AND violence, penis, bizarre plot twist, outright human destruction, subtle violence, penis, penis, penis, and rockin’ cover of Bob Dylan’s “Desolation Row” to close the show. So, really, how can you go wrong with a plot line like that?

Who’s watching the “Watchmen”, you ask?

It’s totally me.  Couldn’t look away, even if I’d tried.



The House Bunny

Spider-Husband and I went to see The House Bunny last night.  Yes, I was sucked in to wanting to see it.  I’m a total sucker for cheesy chick flicks.

But the real feat was in managing to convince Spider-Husband to come along for the ride.  Which was harder than one might expect with a movie starring one of his biggest movie star crushes – Anna Faris – and The Girls Next Door.  Hello.

Spider-Husband:  We’re the only people in here except for two other women, who are both alone.  This does not bode well for this movie.

Me:  You are the only guy here, aren’t you?

Spider-Husband:  Why do I feel like at least one of these women owns a cat?

Me:  Oh look, there’s another guy coming in now….oh.  He’s wearing crocs…with tube socks.  I’m sorry.  

The movie really wasn’t bad.  It was exactly what I expected after seeing the preview with a few surprises here and there…like a “Is that really who I think it is” appearance by Tyson Ritter, from the All-American Rejects and some random commentary from Mr. Socks in Crocs that consisted mainly of such enlightening phrases as “Hells yeah.”  and “What? Oh, no she didn’t.”

Oh, yes, he did.