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Monsoon Wedding

I overheard all the yuppy bitches oohing and ahhhing over the whole movie, and afterwards excitedly gabbing with their friends how fabulous it would be to have a wedding like that. Think about it, you could make a killing; hire real Indian people to throw your wedding, and pretend to be your family. Someone would make a fortune.

Enough about weddings though; what the hell am I talking about, this whole MOVIE was about a wedding. Two in fact. And you know, even a cynical, sex-addicted freak like myself loved it. The characters were all real and honest, colorful and with hidden faults and desires all their own. The heroine, Aditi, is a Cosmo-reading woman, about to marry an Indian computer engineer from Texas, arranged by her parents. She’s also still fooling around with her ex-boyfriend, a married TV producer.

As cute as Aditi was in her infidelity to her fiance, the real stars of the movie are the minor characters. Especially P.K. Dubey, the exuberant, rude wedding organizer. His wild ways are stopped when he meets and falls for the quiet servant of the Verma family, Alice. From his addiction to eating marigolds to his poor mother, desperate for her successful son to give her grandchildren, Dubey steals all the scenes he’s in. His proposal to Alice at the end is one of the sweetest and most sincere (not to mention hilarious) that I’ve ever seen.

Aditi’s little brother Varun was also simply fabulous. Obsessed with watching cooking show, dancing, and being a little over-weight, Varun was infinitely more interesting than most of his simple family.

The sub-plot of the bad bad Uncle being a bad bad man with little girls was easily not necessary. It contributed nothing to the film, except the feeling of familial solidarity at the end. He was just a bad bad man, and we didn’t need to see any of it.

What I could have used more of was the gorgeous saris and outfits. You can never have too many great outfits, and this family lives by that saying.

One thing that troubled me, was during the movie, the people were laughing at the oddest places. I couldn’t help but wonder if they were laughing at the fact that this well-to-do Indian family in New Delhi had a nice house, with TVs, cell phones, and large property. As if they believed that Indians who don’t live in dirt huts in the crowded city are silly figments of the writer’s imagination. Or perhaps they just thought that it was simply amusing to see these Indians trying to get a good signal with their cell phones. Maybe I just don’t get it. I don’t give a fuck.

Last, but not least, I would like to congratulate Mira Nair for her wonderful film of love and marriage in the rain. I know I for one am anxiously searching for her previous films at this very moment.

Ta!

Rating: A-
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"Firefly" Characters Revealed

So Joss Whedon has a new series being developed for Fox. And everyone and their dog have reported on the same boring information. Yes, its set 400-500 years in the future on a transport ship that lights up its ass. Hence the name “Firefly.” Yes, we know it’s supposed to be a western show in space that parallels the U.S in the south during Reconstruction after the Civil War. But what about the fucking characters? Your darling little Long Island Lolita has come through again, with fucking fabulous character descriptions for Joss’ new show.

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Fire Bad. Tree Pretty.

(Editor’s note: Since moving to Brooklyn, I’ve been spending a lot of time with Lolita. And let me tell you something… this bitch IS obsessed with Buffy The Vampire Slayer. She’s got the books, the action figures, the comics {not only the Buffy comics but also Whedon’s new comic series, Fray} and she goes to the Suncoast in the Manhattan Mall every Tuesday to see if the first season DVD set is available for preorder yet. And whatever you do, do not tell her that Xander needs to die this season. Just trust me on this.)

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The Cute, The Beat, And The Gay

(Editor’s Preface: On behalf of the FilmJerk.com staff, comprised of men and women and of various ages and sexual preferences, we would like to underscore that this column and its views are the opinions and writings of one single female, and not the entire site. Personally, we would like to take a moment to mention that the executive producers of “Smallville” should be strung up by the balls for once again casting 20-something in teenage roles. The industry term is “18 to look younger”, but due to the Dept. of Justice’s little pedophilia-communism crackdown, it is considered a very punishable, very gray area to actually show real teenagers — you know, the young-looking kind? — doing non-Christian things. Sorry guys, but if you had any fingers on the pulse of our changing adolescent cascade, you’d realize that most 16-year-old white suburban males, even the ones from Krypton, do NOT have a hairy chest. Today’s varsity football team could all be in Calvin Klein ads if you chopped their heads off. David Fincher’s “Fight Club” isn’t kidding: machismo is dead. Oh, sorry, go ahead and read. -DS)

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