My friend and fellow film snob Rory the Movie Idiot recently forwarded me a link to always humorous AV Club wherein they broke down 14 crappy romantic comedies. Lo and behold, what movie should have popped up at #2 but "Serendipity", the one I love so deeply and watch each and every Christmas and that everyone else in America hates. (Except, of course, for the not-so-esteemed Gene Shalit who wrote, "I’ve been reviewing movies for 35 years and 'Serendipity' joins my personal list of matchless romantic comedies!" You tell 'em, Gene!)
I've attempted before to explain my love of this film I should have no business loving, but it seemed inadequate - and judging from the responses I received you felt it was inadequate, too. But one line in The AV Club's rant caught my eye and offered a moment of clarity.
"But rather than exchanging names and phone numbers, Beckinsale — whose crippling search for 'signs,' Cusack inexplicably sees as charm rather than insanity — decides they should write their respective contact info on a $5 bill and an old book, and leave their next meeting up to fate...."
Recently I was talking with my friend (and the best cinematographer in Illinois, Wisconsin & Manitoba) Matt about my theoretical match.com profile and what I would say I was looking for in a women. I determined it should simply read: Must be a petite emotional basket-case.
And I realized my theoretical match.com profile in conjunction with The AV Club's wonderful line puts my whole "Serendipity" infatuation into perspective. Much like Chuck Klosterman tends to "equate sadness with intelligence" (and I do that, too) I tend to equate insanity with charm. I tend to equate OCD with passion. (I also tend to equate bitterness with beauty, smoking with sexiness and shyness with allure.)
I've said it before and I'll say it again. Kate Beckinsale in "Serendipity" would not frighten me. If I met a woman who looked like her and spoke with a British accent and rambled on about fate and destiny and then determined we both needed to get on separate elevators and pick a floor and if we picked the same floor than we were meant to be together, well, I'd fall madly in love with her at the speed of sound.
Maybe Kate Beckinsale of "Serendipity" is insane. Fine. But I'm not going to deny my feelings for her. She'd be the most beautiful woman in all the mental hospital.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
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1 comment:
As someone who has had a lifelong habit of interpreting psychosis as sexiness, I offer you my sympathy.
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