Internet: prepare to lose the rest of your respect for me…assuming there’s any left.
I am, after all, the woman who nursed a pretty serious adolescent crush on one Steven Guttenberg.
(My apologies to your sex drive for the exposure to this photograph.)
I have some pretty embarrassing guilty pleasures (…obviously), so I could have taken the easy way out when writing this post and told you about my love of Intervention-type shows (the more self-destruction, the better!), my unhealthy attachment to the first season of 16 and Pregnant, or my unabashed attraction to any and all nature documentaries filmed in HD with narration by Sigourney Weaver and/or Oprah.
I have also been known to watch entire, narration-less episodes of Sunrise Earth. Know what that is? ONE WHOLE HOUR OF THE SUN RISING. It’s all hookers and blow at my house, folks.
Discussing all of those somewhat run-of-the-mill guilty pleasures, however, seemed pretty safe to me. I needed to dig up some serious dirt for this post, Internet, and that is why I chose to share with you my love (and shamefully repeated viewing) of romantic comedies with solidly middle-aged casts.
I’ll have one aging Alec Baldwin, please. The puffier the better.
The thing is? I don’t even like romantic comedies. I mean, sure, I’ve been known to waste 108 precious minutes of my life (plus commercials!) watching Sweet Home Alabama on TBS while I fold laundry or paint my nails or whatnot, but I will not pay CASH MONEY to view anything starring Katherine Heigl or Ginnifer Goodwin, and if I was given the choice of either gouging my eyes out or having to watch He’s Just Not That Into You again?
I’m feelin’ ya, Oedipus.
WHY IS IT, then, that I have such an incredible weakness when it comes to romantic comedies involving characters over age 40 and beyond? Because, my friends, if you give me a quiet night at home with a bottle of red wine and some Viagra-humor-infused boning queued up on the DVR? I am one happy lady. One happy, pathetic, not-getting-laid-anytime-soon lady.
Apparently Diane Keaton’s finest work isn’t considered foreplay? Whatever, husband.
Oh, but we’re not done yet! I have yet to share my top three favorite mid-life rom-coms, ranked in order from most socially acceptable to most horrifically damaging to my reputation and marriage:
1. Something’s Gotta Give: This little number was my gateway drug into the 60s R&B-soundtracked world of middle-aged cinema. Even if you’re not into this genre, you have to admit this movie is pretty solid. It garnered quite a few awards and nominations, and earned Diane Keaton a Golden Globe and an Oscar for her earnest and touching portrayal as divorced playwright Erica Barry. I am always unpleasantly surprised by the appearance of Keanu Reeves in this movie, and I’ve never been Jack Nicholson’s biggest fan (since when is SQUINTING equivalent to ACTING?!), but dammit if I don’t watch this particular picture show every time it’s on TV.
My 62-year-old mother and I once bonded over the fact that we both really like this movie, so…yeah. That about says it all.
2. It’s Complicated: Actually, no, it’s not: this movie is pretty lame, and so am I for actually ENJOYING IT. Sure, it’s got Alec Baldwin, Steve Martin and Meryl Streep (and John Krasinski, if that’s your thing) (it’s not mine), but still: LAME. I’ve discovered that I am not a fan of Alec Baldwin sans Jack Donaghy or Steve Martin sans banjo/wacky hijinks or Meryl Streep sans, well, A DECENT SCRIPT, but I’ll sure as shit watch this movie whenever it airs on HBO (which has been a lot lately, like, THANKS, HBO, for enabling my slow descent into dried up crusty old crone-hood).
Although this scene is kind of endearing because Meryl Streep is so charming and DAMMIT! It’s happening again! Someone help me!
OK. All better.
3. Because I Said So: Oh, you guys. I know, I KNOW, I know I’ve disappointed you so far, but this is really going to hurt. Have you ever seen this movie? It’s painful beyond compare. What’s worse is that I actually ordered this movie via Netflix streaming one night when I was home alone. Yes, that’s right: I paid actual American dollars for this experience. Not even Diane Keaton can save this movie from itself, such is the awesome power of its deeply awkward writing and acting. Also? The middle-aged love interest in this one? Is the Dad from 7th Heaven. I mean, no offense against that guy, but…OK, offense against that guy. He gives me the creeps and I can’t stand his hair. Suffice it to say, the entire project just a complete clusterfuck of horrible from beginning to end, and yet: I WATCH. AND I WATCH. AND I WATCH.
And I cringe at Diane Keaton’s weird Transitions lenses AND I WATCH.
OK. We’re done. I’m sorry. Don’t look at me, I’m hideous!
This is not the Elephant Man. It’s a photo of me watching Must Love Dogs.
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