Ok, folks. Here we are. Back again in “Chick Flick City”, my ongoing effort to strengthen the “Chick Flick” section on my resume of films I’ve watched, seeing as I avoided them like the plague pre-blog. I asked, you voted, and the winner was “Notting Hill” starring Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant, so here we go.
The other day, a spam comment found its way through the filters and awaited moderation on my Chick Flick City “Steel Magnolias” post. It was spam, and wound up in the trash, but it did bring me back to Chick Flick City. I was shocked to find that it had been over a year since I did the last one (Dec, 2011).
So, with nothing else goofy looming on the horizon here, I decided to resurrect the series. Yup, heading back to Chick Flick City.
For those of you who don’t know, Chick Flick City is a series where I brave the movies that most men would rather jump off of a bridge than watch… those flicks where any testosterone-abled man writhes in discomfort just thinking about them. I post a running commentary as I watch (a la my recent Twilight marathon) and post for your reading enjoyment.
To mark my return, I selected ten chick flicks I’ve never seen. The poll will run for a week and the top two choices will get their day in the sun here over the next month or so. You can make two choices, and base it on any criteria you like. Actually a fan of one or more of these films, and hoping I’ll enjoy them? Great! Love watching reading me suffer, and want to pick the worst ones you can? That’s fine too. It’s all in good fun.
So have at it! My first stops in my return to Chick Flick City are up to you!
Here’s what I know going in, which isn’t much. There’s some kind of love triangle (Dan Fogarty, movie poster detective!), she’s British, and Renée Zellweger gained like thirty pounds for the part. Which they made a big deal of – but she looks better here than in any other role, so I think it’s just a function of Hollywood starlets being dumb and too thin to begin with anyways.
Oh, and Hugh Grant got busted with a hooker. THAT I know! LOL, Huuuuugh!
So let’s do this thing! “Chick Flick City”, here we come!!
Round one was relatively successful I thought. Saw two high quality (though unmistakably feminine movies). Now it’s time to determine the next stop on our tour of Chick Flick City.
This round I culled the potential answers from films I heard mentioned previously, and picked the ones I felt were leaving the biggest chinks in my personal viewing filmography. The winner (and potentially the top two if the vote is weighted enough) will get a Chick Flick City column in the very near future.
If you’re not familiar with Chick Flick City, it’s my series of columns where I watch a Chick Flick I’ve never seen, and write a running diary of my experience. Check out my first two installments, Steel Magnolias and The Notebook.
I’d also like to know if everyone approves of the running diary format… I have fun doing them that way, I do think theyre funny, but I suspect it might put people off if theyre not familiar enough with the movie, plus they wind up being LONG. LOL. Also, be sure to let me know which movies you’d like to see up for consideration in future rounds, as well, ok?
So there you have it. Let the great chick flick debate begin again!
Welcome back to “Chick Flick City”, the series where I address estrogen deficiencies in my personal filmography by watching movies recommended by YOU, the readers. Up this week, the rain soaked “The Notebook”.
Because I’ll tell ya, that image above is the overwhelming impression of this movie for me. I’ve never seen this flick, but I’ve seen that kiss 8,602 times. Posters, commercials, send-ups, etc… Why couldn’t they go inside? What, they’re at some lake or something? The phrase “get a room” comes to mind. Not because I want them to take it out of my sight, I… I want them to get dry.
Will I change my mind? Will I finally understand, or will I still wish they had brought an umbrella?