Which is more entertaining? A. Watching this movie B. Laughing at the lady in the Capri pants who keeps bitching about how she "doesn't get it?"
Which is more revealing? A. Knowing that this is the funniest movie that I've seen all year. B. Realizing that most people don't understand why.
I could feel sorry for the wench in the fourth row who doesn't understand why this movie is so funny. I could, but the hard truth is that I want to be her. Not so much or the fact that she's a woman, but more for the fact that she seems to have much simpler tastes.
I wish that I could summon a belly laugh when Becker calls his patients "morons," or when I receive forwards about Bin Laden... but I can't. My sense of humor has been so horribly warped that I have to resort to movies like The Royal Tennanbaums to make me laugh. Sadly, I didn't even like the movie all that much. Gene Hackman was brilliant and I laughed a lot, but the constant back and forth between ridiculous and serious gave me the runs.
Well, I guess this is my lot in life. Instead of enjoying reruns of The Fresh Prince, I'm stuck hunting for movies made by weirdoes... movies that will further isolate me from those I hold dear. Damn those who did this to me! Damn you PorkPony! Instead of making fun of you, I have become you. You suck the royal tennanbaum. On a scale from 1 to Club11, The Royal Tennanbaums gets a 7 1/2.
