I watched (500) Days of Summer today. Twice.
I don’t sleep much and I tend to be up quite early so I cracked out the first viewing at around 7am. I hated it.
I thought it was blindingly self-indulgent and it made me want to sick up what I (would have) had for dinner yesterday (had I not been on this pissing detox). I’ve been laughed at for being a bit pretentious twice or thrice in my time and, as I write this, I’m sitting under a tree in the sun. With my laptop. In skinny jeans. Wearing an eighties band t-shirt (Ultravox, no less. Now that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. I’m not even being ironic, I damn love them). Listening to a French indie band. I’m quite aware that I probably look the love interest out of a Paramore music video right now.
Normally I eat all this indie movie malarkey up and I like painfully low budget films, particularly mumblecore. It just feels so real, man. You know what I mean, man? But I was pretty sure this was just naff and that’s saying something considering I liked Paper Heart with Charlyne ‘Token Kooky Asian’ Li and Michael ‘I’ll Probably Never Play A Character That’s Too Dissimilar To Who I Was In Arrested Development’ Cera.
Take one lean, slightly effeminate young man who looks like he reads poetry and make him suitable arty by giving him ambitions of being an architect:
Take one cute, hair ribbon wearing brunette with a penchant for 1950s tailoring and make her independently spirited and ‘quirky’:
Pull out some hideously contrived situations to put them in and make them look oh so original by frolicking around in ways that will make teenage girls write in their diaries about how they wish they could meet a man like the protagonist and fall in love. These situations include playing house in the IKEA showrooms and looking at Beatles records in a music store that happens not to be HMV.
Then something happens followed by something else occurring followed by heartbreak followed by a chance of reconciliation followed by more heartbreak following by a scene of nothingness followed by a dodgy, rushed ending that’s supposed to make you giggle and fall in love with love.
This film made me mad at its badness, or I thought it did at first. Then I realised I didn’t totally hate the film. I don’t love it but I realise that I dislike it because it’s made me feel mightily depressed. I understand the message of faith, fate and perseverance and all that shit but WHY COULDN’T HE BE THE ONE FOR SUMMER? WHY COULDN’T IT HAVE BEEN SIMPLE, LIKE IN THE MOVIES? After I finished crying, I ran up to my room and wrote in my diary about how much I want to play house in IKEA with my boyfriend.
This toyed with my emotions way too much and now I’m going to have to take a lie down and read a bad novel where everything is simple; where A meets B and everything works out well and C doesn’t come in and ruin the occasion and make me question everything to do with love, life and lust and completely ruin my day by bumming me the heck out.