Monicuta

#Warning: full-on spoiler alerts#

Zombified after a long day at work, the hour is late but find myself inspired (feel so much more nowadays) to jot down (sort-of-speak) how a little movie (not-so-little) previewed two days before theater-release (‘cause I’m cool that way) made me feel tonight (and I think I may be done with using parenthesis).  *curiosity note: how do you spell the plural of parenthesis?  Parenthesies? Spellchecker says no.  English language weirdness - may be one of those that it is same in both its singular and plural forms..*  *Oy vey, the things that consume me…*

Here’s a little movie that likely will create a dating movement.  Obvious big Hollywood strings at work - big director, stars, budget, etc.  Yet, impressively grounded and extremely au courant!

Yes, people have had friends-with-benefits relations for the last decade.  At least!  Not that I know anyone like that personally…  Beyond the predictable boy-girl, girl-boy that fall for each other, you have a plethora of rarely depicted on film LA locations.  Pause her for a bit - LA is beautiful.  It has transformed also every corner it has and the movie definitely pay homage to it.  Bravo director, location manager.  Culver City seems to be a fave, as are his restaurants.  First LA W, the one in Westwood.  Hancock Park house and street at the film’s beginning.  Downtown’s farmer’s market scene (that was a different angle than the over-used, commercially sited Disney Hall background), even the fab little house the boys are living in, on the Coldwater Canyon (on your way up to Franklin Canyon).  Paramount lavishly shares its backlot (as you’d expect a producing studio to do). Throw in there the night, modernly-lit metro plaza at Vermont (or is it Western?) scene (gagaga!), then Miracle Mile’s Wilshire boulevard just past the Tarpits, and - since there - the ensuing scene at LACMA’s BCAM lights forrest (I call it that), which may be their (the lights’ installation) debut on film actually.  Well, done Mr. Reitman.  We needed someone to parallel Mr. Curtis’ efforts in eulogizing London’s face - LA has a face worthy of many odes indeed.  More please, dear Hollywood!

And that’s just the exteriors.  You go to the sets for all the various scene - set design okay.  Scene fitting.  But then you go to the girl and boy, respectively shared apartment and house (respectively) and get ready to feast on superb eye candy.  We’re talking chair, tables, lamps, couches, beds, all the most fabulous furniture porn you can think of.  Well, not all of it.  But close.  Mid-century dominates in style (hat tip Mad Men set designers, obviously) although there’s a warmth, humanizing accesorized version of it, with posters, coloured dresser, woods and the simple layout of the funiture.  Posters add to it without cheapening the ambiance (Ozomatli was really big with some of the movie’s honchos).

The canvas (interiors / exteriors - but mostly the interiors) of the movie comes to complete agreement with Yahoo’s recent findings, No McMansions for Millenials

Then you have the story.  Fast. Moving.  Real enough.  Credible.  Hip because it’s so real.  And grounded.  Amazingly, fairly grounded.  A little to fast for my taste but I am a girl… Girl character will empower girl (that is already in her second decade as a strong, independent woman, yes?); boys/men will find themselves curious enough, and then - secretly - completely seeing it possible… 

Bad jabs at old people, right before the credits…  They’re people too, you know.  

Quite a bit of notable supporting cast, not in the least the highly overseen Kevin Cline.  Kutcher does a better than usual performance and it’s not his looks, it’s from the inside.  Portman shines, as she always does in everything that she does (got range?) [Black Swan, anyone?]

All in all a very cute romantic movie, quasi-comedy.  Good date / Valentine’s Day movie (lotsa hints for guys - the world has changed, hello?! Shake it up a bit with the predictability.]  

It spoke to me.  All over.  Got me tickled enough to write.  It was not the deeply intellectual tickle.  Just the simple, broad inner-smile one.  Simple.  Sometime’s that’s okay.  

What I learned: You Cannot Say No To Love.  You just can’t!

Occasionaly I catch glimpses of sanity.  Maybe there’s hope.

Parlami.  E tutto.