Violet’s mom is in town. I adore Violet’s mom and lucky for me the feeling seems to be mutual. We have been having a nice time despite one minor, yet quite awkward, road bump.
Last night the three of us went out for dinner. After eating way too much fabulous Thai food at (yes, I am about to plug a restaurant) Sea Thai in Wallingford (I have been there 2,387 times and it is ALWAYS delicious), we decided to get a movie and have a cozy, early night. The movie we wanted, “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” was checked out so we had to come up with a plan B. And I don’t know about you, but for me, renting a movie is like going to the grocery store in that there are tons of things I want but if I don’t make a list before I go, as soon as I step foot in the store, all of a sudden I can’t think of anything specific, in the whole wide world, that I have any interest in at that moment. This happened to all three of us and when the movie we wanted wasn’t there we all ended up staring blankly at a wall covered in dvd’s. Eventually, a woman that worked at the store asked us if we needed help. Clearly we did.
I asked the nice woman exactly this, “Ya actually. My mother in-law and I (Violet was off looking at subtitled documentaries) are looking for a comedy, but not slapstick, you know, something with smart dialog. ” The movie-rental-lady scratched her head and said, “Let me think a minute.” Fine. Violet’s mom and I continued staring at the wall. The movie rental lady pops back, hands me a dvd and says, “Here. This one didn’t get enough attention as far as I’m concerned. It’s from the 90’s. I bet you all will like it. Funny, smart, coming of age. Great dialog.” The movie title was “Slums of Beverly Hills.” Ok, well, it has Marissa Tomei. The plot didn’t seem particularly good but also not bad so it seemed fine. We were all at a loss for other options, so, this was perfect.
We got home, changed into our pajamas and the four of us (the fourth being the Seal, of course) cuddled up on the couch and pushed play.
First scene starts: And BAM! BOOBS. I’m not kidding, no credits, no song, nothing but boobs. The whole tv screen was covered in a close up of some teenaged girl’s breasts. There is a close-up of her trying on bras while her dad is in the background talking about how “she is stacked.” Awkward. Very awkward start. None of us say anything. “It’s just the first scene” my brain is whispering to me, “it’ll get better.”
Second scene: Marissa Tomay attempting to hitchhike in the dark wearing what appears to be a hospital robe. And as a huge semi truck comes blazing down the street, she stands in front of it, the semi honks it’s loud horn, insinuating “get out of the road lady, I got places to be” when all of a sudden… yep, she flashes her breasts. Once again, all in a matter of 5 minutes, I am sitting next to Violet’s mom on my couch trying to figure out how to exist while my tv screen looks like one big poster of breasts. So. Awkward.
Finally, I say something. I have to, no one else is and clearly this might not be the movie for us. “So, should we all start considering something different to watch?” Both Violet and her mom nod their heads. “Should we just give up now or…?” Violet’s mom says, well, let’s give it a few more minutes but so far this movie does not have my attention.” Which was totally opposite of me. I was so mortified by this movie it was consuming me.
Next scene: The “stacked” teenager is looking inside her family’s new apartment when in walks the neighbor. He is smoking a cigarette, comments on her breasts, which then leads to another close up of her “stackedness”, and then asks her if she would like to buy some weed.
So, wow. Now we have a movie about teenage breasts and drugs. Awesome. Awesome recommendation rental store lady. This movie shouldn’t be so vaguely placed in the “comedy” section. No, this movie should go in the “very smart witty comedy movies to watch with your mother-in-law, grandparents, and young children” section.
Oh, and right before we turned it off, the “stacked” teenager’s little brother pulls a cooked cat out of the oven. I might even ask for my money back.