It utterly fails in that tendecy, of course, being as there can never be either such a wonder as a true defense of being a stupid cunt nor such miracle as girlsplainationiii capable of standing to examination. By its very nature girlhood is a self-limiting diseased state, exactly like mongoloidism but without oligo-organic basis ; whereas being a stupid cunt really needs no explaining whatsoever, it's all self-obviously cointained in its own appearance. Just like the petty thief can readily be understood without recourse to more elaborate figures than his immediate person, just like the bum needn't carry the explanatory sign reading "hard work pays off later while laziness pays off now" to be entirely, thoroughly and without remainder comprehended by any observant bystander, just so the stupid cunt's directly and immediately accessible to the spirit.
Other than that fundamental doom, the film also suffers greatly under the crushing weight of accreted coincidental misfortunes. For instance, the greatness of the scene where the deeply yellow Strega meets the deeply red Rogers is immediately perceived in the imagination as phenomenal, even though the print... the print's just black and white. More instances are available of the sad pile of mishaps, none of which as vibrant or self-obvious ; though the supporting cast of faggoty USian males is particularly atrocious (and in that deep, shameful failure of even vaguely representing any kind of manhood perhaps noteworthy, though dubiously so at best).
Aside the Escherian nature of the broad design and the hapless collection of warts and barnacles befouling the execution, the film nevertheless articulates clearly enough the mechanisms of the transition from girl to stupid cunt (as opposed to natural growth into sane womanhood) :
- Firstly, the outright insane self-allocation of maximal value. Kitty's okay by herself and unto herself sufficient, she doesn't need anyone for anything, bla bla bla in that vein.iv
- Secondly, the utterly inappropriate relationship with the alpha. She's wishy-washy, non-committal (because, as per the above, "she can only commit" on an strictly impossible deal, and until the strictly impossible "comes along" she'll... wait).
- Finally, the screamingly inappropriate relationship with the beta. She doesn't plainly exploit him, because reasons (in the vein of insanity already contemplated), which'd effectualy anchor his existence and give his life meaning. She doesn't reject him, either, because... well, it's hard out there for an overgrown girl. The wiffle-waffle back and forth manages to waste as much as possible of the alpha's time and frustrate the beta to high heavens, resulting ultimately in societal breakdown ; as it must, because this whole idiocy is nothing aught and nothing besides a frontal assault on standards.
Ultimately, girls are bad news ; failure to employ some sort of monopoly on violence towards their forcible education towards humanity necessarily spells the end of any society irresponsible enough to allow itself to fall into that hole.
That's be all, really ; though you might also appreciate the incidental depictions of careerwomen's lives (and the interiors they populated on their own power) in "the richest country in the world" back when it still had somewhat of a shot at that title. Three girls to the room, two to the bed plus one on the couch, it's all in there. It's all in there waiting.
It's all in there waiting for you.———
- 1940, by Sam Wood, with Ginger Rogers. [↩]
- This deplorable activity being the principal substance of Ginger Roger's life and career, such as each was. The curse of weak directors backed by even weaker producers, I suppose. [↩]
- The (always reductive) attempt at recreating a narrative description of the world which doesn't conflict with such priors as compose the mental universe of a girl, that human female mentally immature enough to not yet be a woman. [↩]
- What, you thought "social media" invented the girly voice ? Hurr. [↩]