CC:[email protected], [email protected]
From: [email protected]
RE: Your new movies.
Cheerio, chaps! Jolly good to be writing you this fine evening!
First of all, we encourage the lot of you to attend a screening of the new Harry Potter movie post haste. It is cute without talking down to its audience of children while also managing to entertain any adults in attendance thanks to the smoldering performance of one Alan Rickman, a man who proves that women love the British, specifically if they have sexy voices, even if they don't have sexy teeth. Now before the film began, the audience was treated to some VERY interesting trailers. We're not sure any of you are aware of what trailers we're talking about. They were for three movies. In which you all respectively star. Maybe you really don't have a clue. Maybe we should attribute your stunning lack of judgement to mass alcohol consumption. Or perhaps Quaaludes in your case, Mr. Fiennes. Your performance in particular suggests as much. That is, what little we saw of it past Jenny from the Block's big, fat, head.
That's right. We're going to start with you, Fiennes. Remember when we all loved you and wanted to marry you despite the English Patient? A movie that apparently only Elaine Benes was woman enough to admit how much she hated? Well, that time? She has passed.
In watching the trailer for your upcoming movie Maid in Manhattan, we tried (unsuccesfully) to keep from snorting into our gigantic vats of diet soda as you floated through gauzy-filmed scene after gauzy-filmed scene with J-Lo modelling dresses rejected for Oscar-wear because they were too tasteful.
In the future, this is going to be the movie that critics refer to when discussing people who once had a small amount of talent but squandered it on drugs. Because drug addiction is really the only way to explain this. Or gambling. Perhaps you blew your Red Dragon money on a ripe roulette table in Vegas. Perhaps you're into a loan shark for a hunnert million. It don't get any larger.
Ralph! Rafe! Baby! If you need help, all you have to do is ask! I'm sure one of your countrymen would have helped you out before you had to resort to playing the romantic lead in a Jennifer Lopez movie.
We can only hope that you'll bounce back from this and recover in time to land a role in the Harry Potter franchise. They still haven't cast Prof. Lupin, you know. We understand that Ewan McGregor is a fan favourite, but surely, surely you can pull your bootstraps up and wipe the floor with that simpering Scottish ninny! (We kid, Ewan! Call us!)
Speaking of countrymen. Speaking of pulling yourself up from the mire only to rise up greater and stronger than before! Speaking of simpering ninnies. Perhaps Hugh Grant is available. Oh! Snap! He's got to make a Sandra Bullock vehicle!
Yes Mr. Grant. We were speaking of you there. You'll forgive our harshness. You did after all, make your name playing simpering ninnies.
But in your current movie Two Weeks Notice, it appears you are trying to break your own mould by playing a nutso ninny instead. We have to admit to giggling a few times while watching this trailer. And not just from nit-picking the horrendous lack of attention paid to basic grammar in the title of your movie (The apostrophe is your friend. Learn to love the apostrophe and he will love you back). No, that wasn't it.
You, good sir, are the kryptonite for many, many women. It pains us to admit that we let out a tiny squee of joy whenever we see a picture of you. Except for that one picture of you. You know the one. Stripes and numbers and harsh, prison lighting do not do you justice, my friend.
But as previously mentioned, you bounced back from that incident stronger than ever. You made us like Julia Roberts in Notting Hill. In Mickey Blue Eyes, you reprised the classic stuttering, blinking, flopsy-hairedness you first displayed in Four Weddings and a Funeral and Sense and Sensibility. Then, just when we thought you were going to be typecast forever as a simpering ninny, you changed tempo and played a deliciously rotten cad whom we thought suited Bridget Jones far better than Mark Darcy (Oh, we'll get to you, Firth). And then you played a non-evil, non-flopsy, entirely normal (if insecure and immature) cad in About a Boy. Proving (to us at least), that you, not John "I like Poo" Cusack, should have played the lead in the adaptation of Nick Hornby's High Fidelity.
So what do you do for an encore? You look over your film catalogue and go "Hmmm...I'm a bit bored really. Ninny, simpering ninny, cad, rakish cad, ooh! I know! I'll combine simpering ninny with rakish cad to create an entirely new roll that I can play! The rakish ninny! Who's also a bit nuts! And who falls for his clumsy lawyer played by Sandra Bullock! Because Sandra Bullock is the next Julia Roberts!"
Yeah. In Bizzarro World!
Gah! Sure, she's cute. She's clumsy. She is just soooo irritated by you! By Gum, we wonder what will happen? Do you think you'll end up together? We think you just might. How do we know this? Oh, I dunno. Maybe because we've seen a movie before!
So, Hugh. May we call you Hugh? Ahem. Alright then. Mr. Grant. You were also an early favourite to play Gilderoy Lockhart in -you guessed it- Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Now, it's true, you seemed made for that role and it was a real shame you were busy filming something else. What could that have been, we wonder! Would you like a hint? It rhymes with Moo Meeks Motice.
But y'know, they haven't cast the third Harry Potter movie yet. You would do well to audition for the part of Sirius Black. No, really! We know it's a stretch to imagine anyone being truly scared of you, but you've proven that you can be a cad! We think you need to prove that you can be a mysterious, dark, possibly-evil, possibly-murderous wizard as well. And might we suggest that if you have a prior committment next year, say, filming a romantic comedy (set in, say, New York or London or both!) in which, your love interest (played by, say, Ashley Judd,) is operating under the mistaken assumption that you're a high class denizen of all the right social circles when you're actually beneath her in standing (say, a low-key, low-maintenance, shy, shop-boy masquerading as a rich, irresponsible, slightly-unhinged publisher), all played to the hilt for hi-larious comic effect, might we suggest that you step back for a moment and think about where you'd like your career to go. Especially after you've weathered so much controversy. Speaking of controversy. Or the complete lack thereof as the case may be. We come to our third British Beauty, Colin Firth.
You are no stranger to the career trajectories of both Ralph Fiennes and Hugh Grant. You are, in fact, the closest thing to the perfect hybrid of both of them. Your career is actually the career that both Hugh Grant and Ralph Fiennes wish they had.
Grant seems to want, sometimes, to be taken seriously. But he reaches too far (see the forgettable Extreme Measures). While Fiennes appears to desire some of the fluff pieces that have defined Grant's career. But every attempt to get away from the dreary, unfunny, crashingly boring movies about Proust and Hannibal Lecter results in a giant overstep (See the reprehensible and aforementioned Maid in Manhattan).
So the fate of the romantic, yet serious hero who can be very funny when he wants to be, but not too corny (because he doesn't want to smile at the beguiling female lead only to find a giant hunk of scenery in his teeth) lies in your hands. Thus far, you have done well. You have played staid (Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice). You have played staid but funny and shown a willingness to parody yourself which has not gone unnoticed (As Mark Darcy in Bridget Jones's Diary). Hell, you've played in Henry James which seals your absolute Britishness, which we love! So surely you'll continue on this path. Surely you'll continue to surprise and delight and cause women to swoon (because we understand that they do). No, seriously! We don't think that you can do any wrong! We really think that you might be exactly what the film going public need in a sexy, British hero who is repressed, yet charming. Handsome, yet offbeat. Brave, yet calm. Celebrated yet humble. Intelligent, yet...yet...Hey, wait a minute! Is that you? Is that...you dancing in front of that mirror? In leather pants? Is that you in that lame looking movie about an American girl who wants to find her dad who happens to be British and stuffy? Is that you with Kelly Preston? Seriously? It is! Dude! Kelly Preston! What is this pile of shite called anyway? What a Girl Wants? Awww, Criminey! And your name is Mr. Dashwood? Geez. It was cute that one time. Now you're channeling both Mel Gibson and Christina Aguilera. And that's just wrong.
Well, hey, at least that's it, right? At least you're not starring in a vehicle for some fading starlet who was once touted as the next Julia Roberts because Julia herself was unavailable, right?
We're sure that if we head to IMDB, we'll find some excellent jewels tucked in beside Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason. There's got to be...something...here....wait! Is that? Holy Frijole! You've got to be kidding! You're starring in a movie called Hope Springs? With Minnie Driver Oh lord! Forgive us! We've got to sit down. We...we need a cold cloth. We're feeling very faint.
Like, why didn't you just call it "I'm covering all my bases on the field during the upcoming World Series of Suck." We know that's a long title, but really. Hope Springs? Hope Floats? They were both in movies about beauty pageants. They both want to be Julia Roberts. Minnie Driver is the new Sandra Bullock. Who wishes she were getting the press coverage of Jennifer Lopez who wishes she were as classy as Julia Roberts. (We know that's not saying much. That's kinda the point.)
Do you realize what this means? In two short steps, you have overshot not Ralph Fiennes, not Hugh Grant, but both of them! Both of them! We would suggest trying out for one of the roles in one of the Harry Potter movies, but the younger, rakishly handsome roles will probably be filled by your buddies. We didn't really think you'd need to anyway. We figured that you were above even the great Harry Potter.
We don't know if anything can save you now. We don't know if we want to save you. Minnie Driver, man!
Oh well. At least we still have Rickman. Maybe he'll get braces. And a new lower jaw.
I'm watching: Old episodes of Cupid that I have on tape. That I got from a friend. An Online friend. Who wrote fanfiction. Shut up!
I'm reading: UltraTart. It's Got Bite.
I'm loving: My new kitten. He and his sister were abandoned on the top floor of the parkade at the office where I work. And I rescued him from the pound. He's black and gorgeous and Booker and I named him Wicked.
I'm feeling: Very proud that I haven't bit my nails in over two months. They're so pretty.
I'm drinking: Tea. Hot. Black. Tea. Only in Canada? Pity.
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