MY MOVIE SHELF: Muriel’s Wedding

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 188  Days to go: 188

Movie #189:  Muriel’s Wedding

Right after this movie came out, Daniel Lapaine (who played the strikingly beautiful David Van Arkle) used to follow me around in a white limousine. It was very embarrassing. (That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)

The first time I saw Muriel’s Wedding, I almost couldn’t bear to sit still for how uncomfortable it made me, how squirmingly, cringe-inducingly awkward Muriel (Toni Collette) is. You can’t watch this movie without feeling part sympathy and part disdain for her gross incompatibility with the whole social structure around her. She’s an unbelievable misfit, and she wears the pain of that on her sleeve. And in her face. And seeping from every pore of her body. She’s so hard to watch, and so, so great to watch. It’s one of the reasons Muriel’s Wedding is so beloved to me.

I know what it feels like to be left out. I know what it feels like not to fit in anywhere. I know what it feels like to want nothing more than to win (at life, at love, at literally anything) and only be told (in actual words or merely through actions) that you are nothing, that you are useless, that you’re a burden, that you don’t matter. And that’s Muriel’s whole existence.

Muriel is so beaten down by her father (Bill Hunter) — as are her mother and all her siblings — that she lives almost entirely in a fantasy world. I know what that feels like too. I know how necessary that fantasy can become, how you cling to it, how it becomes the only thing you focus on — to the detriment of other opportunities, sometimes. When Muriel meets Rhonda (Rachel Griffiths) on Hibiscus Island, she forms an instant, strong bond. Her life is instantly better. She has more freedom, she is more alive, and she finally comes into her own in a lot of ways. She sees this, and yet she doesn’t. The emotional damage done to her by her father and former “friends” hangs on. So even when she gets asked on a date, she doesn’t understand that it’s just because of who she is. She thinks it’s because she’s changed her name and run away. When things go bad for Rhonda, and when Muriel is confronted by her father, Muriel returns to that fantasy state. She gets involved in David’s Olympic schemes for the same reason he does: “I want to win. All my life, I’ve wanted to win.” Muriel’s response: “Me too.”

So much of this film goes straight to my heart. I’m much more a movie person than a music person (uh … obviously), but I know exactly what Muriel means when she says her life is “as good as an ABBA song.” It’s so familiar to me.

I understood her desire to be married, I applauded her choice of wedding march song, and I love that she finally stands up to her father. The only regret I have for her (which I understand, but still find unfortunate) is that she leaves David. Their night together was so tender, so heartfelt. Sure, they don’t love each other, but he thinks he could like having her around. I agree. When she leaves him, though, she’s never looked more beautiful and sure of herself. It’s kind of incredible the transformation that comes from within her.

Muriel’s Wedding is a lovely film. It’s not perfect, but it’s lovely. It speaks to empowerment and self-esteem, and to finding yourself when everyone else puts you down. It’s about finding your place and people who love you. It’s about friendship and love. Plus, it employs ABBA songs to excellent effect (the “Waterloo” performance is the best thing ever, for the costumes and the faces and the fight that breaks out), while also getting a really good Blondie tune in the mix. It can be hard to watch, but it’s also so great to watch — and so, so worth it.

MY MOVIE SHELF: Double Jeopardy

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 285  Days to go: 275

Movie #92: Double Jeopardy

Double Jeopardy is a terrible movie. Ashley Judd (as Libby Parsons) isn’t believable as a mother in any capacity, the plot is utterly ridiculous, and from what I know of the legal definition of double jeopardy, it doesn’t even apply here. So if you were planning on killing your husband after serving time for his murder based on this movie’s claim that you can’t be convicted again, think again.

Aside from the entire premise being completely false, the movie has multiple other holes as well. Angela Green (Annabeth Gish) is a preschool teacher to Libby and Nick’s (Bruce Greenwood) son, and yet when Libby is convicted of killing Nick, she has Angela adopt him? Okay, sure, maybe they’ve been really close friends for longer than the one or two years Angela’s been teaching Libby’s kid. But then they sign adoption papers and Libby doesn’t have any sort of copy there, complete with social security numbers and visitation stipulations and other pertinent info, apparently, because when she gets paroled she has to break into Angela’s former employer — in the most half-assed burglary plan ever conceived — in order to get her SSN. I’m not even sure Angela’s SSN would be all that helpful, either, because even in 1999 you couldn’t just go into the library and look everyone in the country up by their socials. That’s absurd. (I also mourn the fact that Daniel Lapaine (the tasty David Van Arkle from Muriel’s Wedding) is in this movie as some dirty hippie (or “Handsome Internet Expert”) trolling for dates at the library. Blech.)

It’s also incredibly stupid at the end of the movie, when the New Orleans Police Chief is like, “Well, since he’s actually still your husband, I guess you own this hotel now.” (More or less.) And Libby gets the chance to snot out a “No thanks.” I’m always like, “if your husband is declared legally dead, then aren’t you legally a widow even if he was never dead to begin with?” The law doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with truth or reality. It only has to do with the law.

And speaking of the law, wasn’t the kid aware at some point that his mother was arrested? He visited her in prison, after all. Did he never question why his father was dead and then wasn’t? Oh, and at the end, when Libby is reunited with him, she asks if he knows who she is. He does, and he’s shocked because “they” told him she was dead. Well, she’s not dead, kid, but your father is. Happy lifelong therapy!

However, there are things I like:

1. Tommy Lee Jones was basically born to play gruff lawmen and begrudging companions. Here he is both. As Travis Layman, Jones is a tough as nails parole officer running a halfway house, and he doesn’t put up with any crap. (This is basically a variation on all the best roles Jones has ever had.) Nobody growls out instructions or sneers at a rules-breaker like him. He’s also pretty funny in his straight-faced way, so when he blackmails people into doing what he wants — giving him information, helping with his investigation, etc. — by smart-mouthing to them that, hey, he could just start making things difficult for them, I can’t help but chuckle.

2. “I gotta hand it to ya, honey, it’s just sheer hate driving you on.” Sometimes I feel like hate is really the best possible workout motivation, to be honest. If I could ever get really worked up over being wronged somehow, I’d probably be ripped.

3. Double Jeopardy throws some serious shade at Pretty Woman for some reason. In the latter, Julia Roberts (as Viv) is approached by a nice saleswoman who guesses her size as a 6, and she’s right, of course, because that’s her job, dear. In Double Jeopardy, though, some snotty saleslady assumes Libby is a size 4, and Libby’s like, “Bitch, I’m a 2.” (I’m paraphrasing.) I’m just waiting for the day when some movie comes out in which Kristen Stewart is like, “Honey, I’m a zero on a fat day. Mostly I shop in the Girls’ sizes.”

4. As stupid as it is to think Nick dumped his unconscious wife in a coffin without removing her lighter or gun or any other useful belongings, it’s even dumber to think she can’t lift the coffin lid. It’s not locked, it’s not being held down. There should be no reason she can’t lift it. But she can’t, not until she shoots the hinges out of it, which for some reason makes the whole lid lighter. Still, it’s a cool scene. Being buried alive is a horrifying thought, and I remember how terrified I was the first time I saw that corpse in there with her. My heart jumped a mile. Now it makes me laugh.

5. In the end, Libby really does kill her husband! Lucky for her there won’t be any kind of investigation or consequences. Bring on the hero’s parade! I swear, this movie is so spectacularly silly.

I can’t really recommend it, not in good conscience, but I do enjoy a bit of mindless trash now and then, and this is absolutely that. If you’re ever looking for something hilariously dumb but fun to watch, you could do a lot worse than Double Jeopardy.