Guys and dolls
Her what'd ya see?
Me guys an' dolls.
Her any good?
Me not bad. except for the lulz at these idiots' problems part.
Her hmm i'm not sure ive ever actually seen it
Me sinatra, brando...
Her defiinitely not
Me then we see sometime. maybe you even make it face upi the whole way.
Her lol sounds doubtful
Me lol. how many films didja sorta-buttseeii to date ?
Her i dunno, 2/3rds?
Me o wow that many ? srsly ?
Her i'd say so. there's a reason i never remember w/e film you're talking about or think you saw it with someone else.
Me pretty good reason!
Guys and dollsiii is a decent musical made out of a decent Broadway show. It suffers terribly of that decency, stifled within the petty horizons of the US-style petit bourgeois-wannabe. The extremely tame soprileiv included, sophomore stuff on the level of the brainwashed drone of the evil General Cartwrightv loving milk punchvi and suggesting it be used to get kids to drink their milk fails to rescue the immense pile of fail. Nathan Detroit's been "going out" with a girl for 14 years yet she's not his slave ? Srsly ? Dude's the most respected something or the other and some obscure bureaucrat dares posture in his direction ? What the fuck happened to "Listen Brannigan, you fucking fringe, if I throw a dog a bone I don't want to know if it tastes good or not. You stop me again whilst I'm walking, and I'll cut your fucking Jacobs off." ? No, but I wish to know, since when the fuck did the world turn on its head.
If you can live with the contorted, nonsensical premises where gangsters are simple minded to the point of troglodytism, a sort of period equivalent of the petit bourgeois notions of black men ; where women actually get to be in charge of the household -- through the ridiculous pretense of being "the guardians of the faith", you know, little cunt priestesses in communion through "the good book" with the ghost of Cartwrights pastvii ; where guys have to ask permission an' the dolls get to posture and pretend and pay no rent, then you'll probably think this campy piece of nonsense is as straight laced as it gets. What could I possibly say to you. Perhaps
What's playing at the Roxy? I'll tell you what's playing at the Roxy. A picture about a Minnesota man falls in love with a Mississippi girl. He sacrifices everything and moves all the way to Biloxi. That's what's playing at the Roxy.
What's in the daily news? I'll tell you what's in the daily news. Story about a man bought his wife a small ruby with what otherwise would have been his union dues. That's what's in the daily news.
What's happening all over? I'll tell you what's happening all over. Guy sitting home by a television set. That used to be something of a rover.
Here's the thing though : you're not growing out of the couch in front of the TV because of the girl. You're growing out of the couch in front of the TV because that's what you are. No, you didn't age into it. She didn't make you do it, love didn't make you do it, time didn't make you do it, god didn't make you do it, enough with the inept excuses. If you're a couch potato it's because that's what you are, nurture ain't got naught to do with this. And yes I'm aware she politely supports your hallucinations of past relevancy. Of course she does, that's her fucking job. You, however, never were "a rover". Not a bit, not a lot, not at all. Get over yourself.
They don't sing so good, none of 'em. Sinatra can't act, I suppose this comes as no shock. Brando can't act to save his fucking life, but then again I expect you're aware.viii Simmons is I guess ok, kinda-sorta. Not really. English woman, whadda ya want.
If you're watching this, prolly good idea to have the girl on hand.
———- "Ass up, face down" becomes tempting as the reel goes on, what can I tell you. [↩]
- There's this thing where she licks your balls / lightly strokes the shaft while her ass is up in the air, cutting a sort of MST3K profile against the screen. Delish. [↩]
- 1955, by J L Mankiewicz, with Marlon Brando, Jean Simmons, Frank Sinatra. [↩]
- Lit. lizards, figuratively "criticism of the totalitariat under seemingly innocent pretenses". [↩]
- A sort of Darth Vader / Professor Evil / Whatever, uppity middle aged woman with delusions of social relevancy and moral importance [↩]
- For some reason this is called dulce de leche in the movie. Yes, yes, I'm aware it meanwhile became a thing, of course, hurr. This isn't to say eggnog was unknown in 50s Habana, of course, but Doncellita ain't "dulce de leche" etcetera. Anyway. [↩]
- Known in Romanian as the stramule. [↩]
- Incidentally, the droning, belaboured speech that every two bit used-to-be-a-rover now identifies with "mafia capo di tuti capi" is already present! In '55! Worth a lulz, I guess. [↩]
