Fan Girl Friday: Imps vs Hunks

I was watching some old White Stripes music videos today, and I was struck by just how impish Jack White looks. I was also struck by how much he looks like Gerard Way from My Chemical Romance.

There was a time (when love was blind, and the world was a song, and the song was exciting . . .) when I was head over heels in love with Jack White. I mean "Renee Zelwegger, I will boycott all your movies because you are dating my man" in love. Cus that's what you do when you are in high school and you find the relationship you were in since the sixth grade has crashed and burned.

Jack White

He was clever, smart, and read music - but I didn't smoke or drink gin (like he did). And oh my gentle Jesus, could he ever make love to a guitar! If you've never heard "Hello Operator" or "I Fought Piranhas", stop reading. Stop reading right now - go to the link, and then we'll reconvene.

I swear to y'all, I could crank "Hello Operator" in my 2003 Focus and the vibrations could get me off (which is more than the ex in flames ever could). If he could do that to a guitar, my God, what could those hands to a woman's body? And he referenced blues. And Citizen Kane. And shit I actually knew and cared about. He was a walking streak of sex.

But, like all teenagers, I was fickle. When I saw the video for MCR's "I'mNot Okay", I had a new scamp to be in love with. That video - more than the song even - blew my ever loving mind.

From the beginning, their videos have been overtly cinematic in look and storytelling. I loved that. In fact, I was convinced the first time I saw "I'm Not Okay" that it was a long form trailer for a new MTV movie. I was looking online "Where do I buy tickets? Where?!?!". You have to remember that Napoleon Dynamite had just come out, and the idea of MTV being involved with a decent movie was not all that far-fetched.

When I found out that MCR was actually a band, I bought tickets to a concert immediately. I had to see them. Gerard was the new Imp King. He could write bittersweet evocative love songs about vampires and zombies (that didn't remind us of Musetta's Waltz) and his lyrical prowess was amazing.

Gerard Way

Aside from their individual musical genius though, they could have been the same person. Black hair, ghostly pallor, pointy noses, devilish grins. Sure, Jack White's taller, and Gerard has blue eyes, but it's not like elevator shoes and contact lenses didn't exist. We all know Wes Borland's eyes weren't really black. We did all know that . . . right?

So, what's my point here? That I'm attracted to pixie men? Well, yes and no. Because I am, and I'm not. At the time, yes, yes, a thousand times, yes. Almost a decade later, I'm looking back on this love affair and thinking "I could not, in all good conscience, hop into bed with either of you." I'm sorry Jack. I'm sorry Gerard. It was fun while it lasted. It's nothing against you. You are still devastatingly good looking and talented guys. I think this is more about me. There's something so delicate and slight about their features that I feel like I would have to take on the masculine role, and I just want to feel like a woman.

Nowadays, I am totally fantasizing about Vin Diesel.

Vin Diesel

 Now, if you knew me circa 2000 when Vin broke on to the scene, you might be saying "Scuse me? Joyce lusts for Vin Diesel? Doth my ears deceive me?". And you would be right. While everyone else in my class was in love with Vin, I was all about Jonathan Rhys Meyers, or Bowie, or Nick Rhodes . . . maybe even Joaquin Phoenix. What can I say, I liked androgyny. I think it's a phase all girls go through. That, and I was under the impression that muscle bound beefcakes like Vin Diesel were more or less flat-lining between the ears - especially if all the airheaded girls I knew liked him. I wanted a sensitive, sophisticated, and intelligent celebrity with whom I could festoon my locker.

My appreciation of Diesel came years later and years apart. The first phase was when, under duress, I was left with nothing to watch except The Fast and the Furious. Desperate times called for desperate measures. By the end, I was desperate to have a guy who could pick me up by cupping one ass cheek in each hand. I never knew I could be that turned on by a muscley man, as I had sworn allegiance to Nancy-boys long ago. 

Phase two occurred some time in college. I had an ever so basic knowledge of gaming and had made friends with some gamers (of the table topvariety). I was regaled with the tale of Vin Diesel being an avid Dungeons and Dragons player. “I’m listening, “I thought. Apparently, as the story was told to me, when asked if he would be good or evil, he brought his fingertips together in front of his face, and peering over them with a devilish grin, he replied “I would be chaotic neutral.” I don’t even know what that means, and it’s still hot! Why? Because Mr. Muscle Pants is the biggest geek of them all. That means he’s smart. Not music man smart, but game theory smart, which may be even better.

 Now, just because I’ve outgrown my physical attraction to the impish men, does not mean that I am any less a fan. I may be an even better fan now that the fire in my loins has been put out, because now I can view their body of work more objectively. 

Example: I was not thrilled with MCR’s last album. I liked some of the songs, but as a whole I was always far more impressed their first two albums and the live performances from the tours of both. I like my MCR pared down and raw as opposed to slick and over produced. Gerard has this awesome ability to ad-lib lyrics in the studio; I think this is awesome. We could use a lot more “Early Sunsets Over Monroeville” and a little less of the “Nananana”. 

As for Jack White, since giving up lusting after him, the only thing I’ve questioned was that James Bond duet with Alicia Keys. I love her too, but that song and the video was a train wreck. I expected more, but maybe that had to do with what the studio wanted out of the song. Who knows. 

Movie Review: Valentine's Day Movies for the Rest of Us

I think we can all agree: He had it coming.

We all know it's a Hallmark Holiday. We all realized this fact in middle school when the pretty girls started getting flower arrangements, balloons, and giant boxes of chocolates and all we got was a lousy paper card and a box of conversation hearts. It's a holiday for the pretty people who bought into the thought that love can be bought. (And it can - show up on my doorstep with some flowers and a box of chocolates and even I will be veritable putty in your hands. Mold me, son.) 

So, what are those of us who are alone to do? We could watch whatever romantic shlock is going to be on TV tonight - or we could utilize the gifts that God gave us and see what's playin' on the ol' Netflix. There are plenty of great anti-romance flicks to choose from, this I assure you. So, go pop some popcorn, fix a thermos full of hot cocoa (or grab a bottle of wine - it's all about indulgence) and curl up in bed with one of these antisocial love stories. Conversation hearts optional.

Be warned: You cannot unsee this shit.

This is a love story - about a man and his dogs. Or, a man and his work. Or . . . OK, it's less love story and more tale of perversion, sadism, and murder. At least you can pretend the girls in the movie are the bitches getting boxes of chocolate. They get their chocolate all right. If you have a weak stomach or are in anyway averse to torture or coprophagia, I don't suggest you watch this selection. I can promise you this, The Human Centipede: First Sequence is the most clean and beautifully filmed gore movie you'll ever see. 

Liev Schreiber makes my bandersnatch creep.

If you want to feel cynical about the fate of long term relationships, this is the flick for you tonight. Liev Screiber and Helen Hunt play a married couple who through the trials and tribulations of life have become disconnected. They spend the entirety of the movie trying to foster relationships with just about everyone in their lives except one another. Eddie Izzard also stars as Schreiber's demanding and overbearing boss. Who can argue with Liev and Eddie in one movie?

Who knew sadism could be so sexy?

It's a period drama. That's Valentine's Day stuff. But, since it's about the Marquis de Sade, from whom the word "Sadism" is derived, it's all about violence, sex, violent sex, murder, torture, and varying degrees of insanity. Geoffrey Rush is amazing as the Marquis, while Kate Winslet redeems herself as the laundry lass who helps smuggle his torrid stories to a rabid Parisian audience. Joaquin Phoenix and Michael Caine round out the all star cast as opposing heads of Charaton Asylum with very different ideas about how to handle the inmates.

John Waters was the original bad boy.

Johnny Depp became indie gold in this John Waters flick in the part of Cry-baby Walker, a greaser with a heart of gold. It's a musical, but I assure you, it's no Hairspray. Maybe it's Hairspray's edgier little brother. Starring Iggy Pop, Ricki Lake, Traci Lords, and Susan Tyrell, Cry-baby is the type of love story that will make you forget all about the fact that you didn't get any flowers today. Instead, you'll wish you had received a bottle full of tears or something equally strange and repulsive.

Christian Slater can kill my frenemies any time.

If you're still bitter about those pretty girls who suck up all the love in the world, this one's for you. Murder, mayhem, and hilarity ensue. Post Columbine, this film would have never gotten the green light, but thankfully, it was made in the halcyon days of the 80s with a very young Wynona Rider and a very good looking (non coked out, still promising, and deadly funny) Christian Slater. If only Hollywood would realize, as I have, how very talented he is.

 As for me, I'll be curling up in bed tonight with some fresh fruit and Vin Diesel. I can dream.

(I know you're thinking "Aren't you married?" Yes, indeed I am. Sadly, my husband is in another country right now, and he doesn't really buy into the flowers and chocolates thing anyway which pretty much puts me in the same boat as the rest of you in the gifts and nookie department).