Lars and the Ripoff
by Scott Hardie on October 23, 2007
I'm sure that Lars and the Real Girl is a good movie and that Ryan Gosling is Oscar-worthy, yadda yadda. But will the bloggers out there spreading the word please stop acting like it's such an original premise to have an adult treat a life-size doll like a real person? In the past few years alone, I've watched indie movies May and Love Object cover the same ground, with Dummy skirting closeby, and those are only a few examples; plenty more exist through the years. There are no original stories in Hollywood (ask Wes Anderson and Sofia Coppola), so enough already.
One Reply to Lars and the Ripoff
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »
Garfunkel and Oates
Kelly and I had a good time last night taking out two old friends for their birthdays to see Garfunkel and Oates in Tampa. I'm only familiar with the duo's songs, so it was refreshing that only maybe a third of the show consisted of music. The rest was stand up comedy, storytelling, audience interaction, and a weird extended commercial for their sponsor Monster Energy Drink, tall boys of which were being handed out for free, because that's just what my heart needs at ten o'clock at night. Go »Manly Pastimes
"So what did you do this weekend?" "I went drag racing." "Really? Go »Notes from Milwaukee So Far
Bad flight Friday. Late dinner at the local 24-hour Greek diner, first pasta I've had in a week and so good. Matt thought the waitress was ignoring us; I thought she was attentive. Go »The Importance of Being Richard
A conversation drifted today into weird shortening of names, like Robert into Bob and William into Bill (how come Michael doesn't become Bike?), and inevitably Richard into Dick came up. How did that even happen, anyway? Go »R.I.P. Mom
You were so still in your bed when I could finally sit down beside you, a few hours after the facility notified me that you had died. I hadn't seen you be that peaceful in years, your eyes not scanning the room for clues, your hands not turning over each object in front of you for endlessly repeated examination. I whispered to you the most urgent and most precious things I had to say, the secrets and atonements and wishes foremost on my mind. Go »
Amy Austin | October 23, 2007
Ah, but are you comparing indie to mainstream -- I'd wager that these bloggers you speak of know nothing of the films you mention... not everyone is a true cinema connoisseur, such as yourself. ;-)