Kelly WandEven Cowgirls get the Blues
October 7th 2006 01:06
Okay. Do I look stupid? I know I don’t feel stupid but, having just watched this film, I must at least confront this possibility. Despite careful viewing, I have been unable to draw upon one coherent idea from the story. It felt like it was desperately trying to tell me something but I couldn’t understand what that something was. I doubt anyone involved with the project could elaborate either.
What is this piece of shit about? How the fuck should I know? I could tell you the plot line of the film but that really is far too dull and stupid a story to waste my time typing. Whilst even cowgirls may get the blues, even Uma Thurman’s most fervent admirers must lose their patience at some point. I may have been the only person on Earth who liked “The Avengers” but even this is too much for me.
I haven’t read the source novel but let me say this; Tom Robbins is either the most pretentious arsewipe ever to put pen to paper or he should murder director Gus Van Sant slowly and painfully for crimes committed against his book. These are the only two choices available. This vaguely reminds me of the cinema adaptation of John Irving’s “Hotel New Hampshire” but that actually did have something to say in the midst of its surreal imagery. Not much I will admit but something. This film takes the tone of high art but backs it up with nothing.
Dialogue consists of a character making some allegedly big philosophical statement and another character saying “That’s right”. These big statements are painfully obvious, patently absurd or pretentious piffle. The film reminded me of being cornered by a university nerd who has just tried speed for the first time.
“Even Cowgirls get the Blues” makes some kind of stab at feminist rhetoric but it seems to have been written by a gay man who has never met a woman in his life. My team of legal advisers will be pleased to note I used the word ‘seems’ instead of the more appropriate ‘was clearly’. If I handed out stars for reviews I would give this one a black hole and pray all available prints would promptly vanish down it never to be seen again.
I watched this movie trying to find one redeeming feature I could pass on to you, gentle reader. The only kind thing I could say is this; after ninety six minutes it was over.
What is this piece of shit about? How the fuck should I know? I could tell you the plot line of the film but that really is far too dull and stupid a story to waste my time typing. Whilst even cowgirls may get the blues, even Uma Thurman’s most fervent admirers must lose their patience at some point. I may have been the only person on Earth who liked “The Avengers” but even this is too much for me.
I haven’t read the source novel but let me say this; Tom Robbins is either the most pretentious arsewipe ever to put pen to paper or he should murder director Gus Van Sant slowly and painfully for crimes committed against his book. These are the only two choices available. This vaguely reminds me of the cinema adaptation of John Irving’s “Hotel New Hampshire” but that actually did have something to say in the midst of its surreal imagery. Not much I will admit but something. This film takes the tone of high art but backs it up with nothing.
Dialogue consists of a character making some allegedly big philosophical statement and another character saying “That’s right”. These big statements are painfully obvious, patently absurd or pretentious piffle. The film reminded me of being cornered by a university nerd who has just tried speed for the first time.
“Even Cowgirls get the Blues” makes some kind of stab at feminist rhetoric but it seems to have been written by a gay man who has never met a woman in his life. My team of legal advisers will be pleased to note I used the word ‘seems’ instead of the more appropriate ‘was clearly’. If I handed out stars for reviews I would give this one a black hole and pray all available prints would promptly vanish down it never to be seen again.
I watched this movie trying to find one redeeming feature I could pass on to you, gentle reader. The only kind thing I could say is this; after ninety six minutes it was over.
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