WHEN: 10:00pm EST, January 28th, 2012
WHERE: In my apartment in Portland, ME (Alderaan)
FORMAT: DVD on a Vizio 47″ LCD HDTV
COMPANY: My brother Matt, my roommate Elliot (for portions)
PHYSICAL AND MENTAL STATE: Had just spent an evening with my brother. We had watched Inside Moves, a pretty good 1980 movie about “low self esteem, continual disappointment, and also being crippled,” as my brother put it. I drank two margaritas over the course of the movie.
REACTIONS OF NOTE:
– Rob’s walk across his apartment to yell at Laura at the beginning of the movie is really prancy. I keep noticing it.
– This is the first time that it has occurred to me that the line “Charlie, you fucking bitch, let’s work it out” has a humorous dichotomy to it. If he really wanted to work it out, would he call her a “fucking bitch”? This = humor.
– Laura says she had the idea to have an album release party for “I Stole My Grandma’s Wheelchair” while she was still with Ian. But how would she have known about the album at that point in time? It makes no sense. Is it a continuity error, or is Laura lying?
-Jack Black is really intense when he says, “We’re Sonic fucking Death Monkey,” and walks toward the camera. I love it.
This viewing was the first part of an attempt to accomplish two weeks’ viewings in a four hour period, by watching High Fidelity last thing Saturday and then immediately restart it at midnight Sunday. I chose to do this in order to hit several birds with a couple of stones: I had had no desire to watch High Fidelity at any point earlier in the week. It would get next week’s viewing out of the way, and it would test how watching the movie back to back would effect me. So three birds, one stone? Unless each viewing is a stone, in which case, three birds, two stones. I’m not sure.
Birds and stones aside, I was not really in the mood to watch this movie. I think prior to this viewing I had already had enough High Fidelity for the year. LUCKY ME! As such, I pulled out the alcohol. Not much, mind you, just a little tequila for a margarita. My brother had been drinking through Inside Moves so he was a bit tipsy from the start. About 40 minutes in, I had a plate of wings and another margarita. The only real effect that this had on my first viewing of the evening was that I found it harder to concentrate on the movie, and often found my mind wandering to completely unrelated topics. I would get distracted. I would think about something else. Barry would say something. I’d pay attention again for a second. My brother and I would laugh. My mind would again wander to something else.
Perhaps the reason I find my mind trying to take a vacation is because I don’t really care for Rob. A number of my friends reenforce this opinion. My brother, for example, thinks that “he is too much of a dick for me to feel too much involvement with him. He really doesn’t deserve any of these women.” My roommate Elliot sat in for a few chunks of the film, and expressed his general dislike of all the main characters, even my beloved Barry. I think that the Dick, Rob, Barry spectrum, covers enough types of people, that there is someone for everyone to hate within it. The question is, do we just hate them, or do we also hate watching them?
And, as always, that last half hour really dragged. Even more so, since my brother fell asleep right before they hit. Which put me in a really great frame of mind to immediately begin watching the movie again…