Tag Archives: movies in bed
Movies in Bed: Anaconda!
Post by Josh Zinn.
Someone once explained to me the popularity and allure of Jennifer Lopez, but, like so many things these days—including the rustic art of mayonnaise making, Diamonique®, and AP calculus—their words were lost on me. Honestly, I just couldn’t fathom how this averagely talented woman had become a worldwide media empire, shucking out albums, movies, and television appearances at a rate far eclipsing the brief but prodigious career of Nelson (the band, not Mandela). Sleek, slender, and bedazzled, Jennifer Lopez is a Versace-clad snake coiled around the globe, squeezing talent from the planet and leaving mediocrity in its place.
Like a snake…
Like a sn…
SNAKE!
Anaconda!
Of course, how could I be so silly?! The obvious reason Jennifer Lopez is one of the biggest stars in the world today is thanks to her starring role in a little film (that’s a simple-minded guilty pleasure) about a really, really, REALLY big snake.
Like On Golden Pond without a pond, Katherine Hepburn, or numerous Academy Awards, Anaconda is a film that raises questions which strike at the heart of the human experience, such as: Why does Angelina Jolie’s dad (John Voight) have a psychic connection with a gigantic snake? How can a fair-skinned Eric Stoltz stay surnburn-free in the middle of a tropical rainforest? If a snake swallows Owen Wilson and no one sees it, did it really happen? Huh, what’s Ice Cube doing here? And finally, how is Jennifer Lopez able to juggle the pressures of being a dedicated documentarian delving into the discovery of a lost native tribe—cause, folks, there’s always a lost native tribe—whilst maintaining a scantily-clad figure seemingly designed by Spandex?
Not content merely to stop with these quizzical queries, Anaconda also assaults the senses with an ever-increasing amount of tension as the audience is left in suspense wondering whose inability to act, the Anaconda or Ms. Lopez, will cause the death of their career first. Judging from the snakeskin boots J.Lo wore last season on American Idol, it would seem that question has already been answered.
Movies in Bed: Charlotte’s Web
Post by Josh Zinn.
Recently, whilst trolling through the myriad cable channels available to me, I happened upon one of the hallmark films of my childhood, the 1973 animated version of E.B. White’s Charlotte’s Web. While I am apt, in my adult life, to quote from this film more times than I usually care to admit (“It says CRUNCHY”) it had been some time since I had actually WATCHED the gentle little saga of a frightened pig named Wilbur and Charlotte, the spider whose life becomes dedicated to preserving the safety of her friend.
Anticipating clichéd retro delight in being able to relive memories of the gluttonous rat, Templeton, as well as rousing karaoke renditions of “Zuckerman’s Famous Pig,” I was caught unaware in my realization as to how much Charlotte’s Web had informed my childhood self about the then very-adult ideas of kindness, loss, and mortality. Granted, there’s plenty of sweet-natured humor and a healthy smattering of vocabulary words (“radiant,” “humble,” and “Smorgasbord” were all knowingly dropped into many of my youthful conversations), but beneath the film’s pork-pink exterior beats the heart of something far greater. More than merely a cartoon, Wilbur’s tale presents parents and children with an opportunity to understand and discuss the machinations of their world and the importance of staying true to themselves in spite of oppositions they may face. It’s heady stuff, no doubt, but crafted in such a way that the film never talks down to kids, but rather, with care and respect.
While it may be true that, as a child, I was as equally enamored with Scooby Doo meeting Sonny and Cher (what a great episode! Zoinks!) as I was with Charlotte’s Web, the impact Wilbur’s story had upon my life far exceeds that explosive alignment of the stars. Sure, the beat may go on, but in the end, there’s no denying that is some pig.
