Roxilla

“Keanu darling, please pass me a bucket so I can hurl.”

Last night I watched a baffling and somewhat stupid movie called Sweet November. It was Chick Flick Thursday, which I would have avoided if the bloody cricket hadn’t been on. Being the television slut I am, I sat through the movie. Crap as it was, it was still better than cricket.

Basically, the movie is about a workaholic advertising exec (a wonderfully wooden role perfectly suited to Keanu’s mongoloid lack of emotion) who causes this scatty chick (Charlize Theron, who you want to punch in the face she’s that kooky) to have to retake a road test. Naturally, she waits outside in the parking lot for him to get out after doing his, and then demands some sort of compensation. Unbeknown to Keanu, she doesn’t want his money, but he tries to buy her off anyway. When she refuses his offer, she refuses to get off his Merc. She’s forced to reconsider when he gets into it and starts driving away however.

Later that night, Keanu gets a visit from crazy Charls at his posh apartment. She forces him to be her getaway driver while she releases some dogs from a lab, then blackmails him into coming up for cocoa. Her pick up tactics are somewhat extreme, but seem to work, as she then somehow persuades Keanu to spend November with her to sort him out and cure him of his emotional detachment. Big mistake. Keanu goes from being wooden but hot high flyer to wooden lumberjack type trying to be cool. From the drag queen downstairs to all the neighbourhood freaks, he is well and truly whipped. This all would have been hard enough to stomach, but then we discover that the crazy chick has cancer and has a few dramatic collapses and whatnot. Then she blindfolds him and leaves him, maybe by jumping off a bridge or just vanishing, it’s hard to tell with those kind of endings.

I couldn’t work out whether there was meant to be some sort of moral, blackmailing men into spending a month with you seems a little extreme, even if you are dying. But that’s just me. I can’t even think of anyone* worth blackmailing for a single date, let alone a whole month. Sheesh.

* except maybe one of the toyboys, who don’t need force.