Like a circus freakshow for the idiotic, come one, come all, and marvel at the burdens and impossibilities beset upon the intelligent.

In general, I’m happy that I’m not that bright. Even when it involves getting all riled up to drag Cracka Number One to the movies in the pursuit of semi-independent comedy about the tightly-wound and neurotic. Sometimes such endeavors end in disaster and escalated self-hatred, and although I vowed never to speak of this again, such was the case when our dual curiosities were piqued by the likes of Margot at the Wedding. Oh, the ruing continues to this day on that one, let me tell you. At any rate, this week such appetites coupled with a curiosity about Dennis Quaid apparently brandishing a prosthetic gut brought us out into the sunlight on our way to see Smart People, which I’m told has some vague connection to the hands which brought forth Sideways, and said link is detectable by the mere tone of the film, and Thomas Hayden Church’s lovable jackassery.

If I were to tell you what lesson I was taught by this film, it would be that Ellen Page continues to defy her Canadianism and maintain her status of awesome. But I say that with a kind of admiration which I liken to that which I have for Natalie Portman; I can’t help but think that starting a career with impressive work only makes it difficult to live up to people’s expectations. Personally, I prefer the opposite (”That’s how you’re gonna beat ‘em, Butch. They keep underestimating you”). Anyway, I might have to watch Hard Candy again just so I can write about it here. If you haven’t had a chance to give it a look, I highly recommend it, provided you like acutely stylized and disquieting ordeals about pedophiles.

But back to Smart People for a minute. I used to be unsympathetic to unhappy people in general. This was, I have come to find, naive. It is with shame that I recall looking down on those who appeared to know what they wanted in life, but did little to pursue it. Now, I’m still pretty judgmental about it when it seems that the main factor in such a static condition seems to be laziness or fear of the unknown. However, sometimes it’s very difficult to idealize the possibilities. Sometimes, between two evils, neither are ultimately lesser. If you’re given a spent Chinese take-out container and are asked to erect a monument to architecture, do you attempt it knowing that the outcome will never be more than a pale approximation, or do you refuse the endeavor entirely in an attempt to maintain the integrity of aesthetic and engineering achievement? People tend to over-think things, and such contemplation can lead to paralysis. Whether such suppositions of mine are born of detached observation or experience, I leave to you, but I will say that it forced within me a sympathy with the film’s characters when I was between Brawndo-induced fidgeting and spasms.

That’s my take on it, though. I think if you were to ask her, my viewing companion would have told you that, by the end of the movie, she just wanted people to stop being dicks.

This entry was posted by eugene on Thursday, April 24th, 2008 at 1:37 pm and is filed under american, movies. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.