Just a bitchy movie review

As most of you guys know, June has been my hell month (no, not Hell Mouth for you Buffy fans -- though, sometimes it feels that way). The project in question (PIQ) is in full swing, and my coworkers, who finally realize that wait, I actually need TIME to do this damn thing before my 7/1 deadline have finally stopped handing me new projects to fill my "copious amounts of free time."

I guess I should say MOST of the co-workers. The old bitchy one who gives out my personal cell phone number to the users and only bothers to acknowledge me when she's letting me know about something else that she's promised the users I'd do acknowledged me again yesterday. I flat out told her that I couldn't accommodate the project, that she should have checked with me before committing me, and reminded her AGAIN that I have two other high-priority projects in addition to the work that she keeps finding for me to do. Her response, "They need to get you an assistant." I told her it wouldn't help because I would then have to train them , which I don't have time to do; otherwise, they could use the non-training- expect-to-figure-out-how-to-fix-the-users'-messes approach that they used with me and we'd see the person leave in a week.

I then talked to the user in question, apologized for not being able to accommodate his needs (something I didn't need to do, but I figured he needed to know) and invited him to talk to me directly if he needed something as I had a better understanding than Sue, apparently, of what exactly I'm working on and what I had time for as I'm barely keeping my head above water as it is.

That being said, one of the only benefits of these crazy-ass hours (I was up at 2 this morning because that's the free time I have) is that I get to see a lot of movies. Some, like Catch and Release and The 10th Kingdom, I've loved. I may have to add C&R to the rotation of rainy-Sunday chicky flicks. Others, like Happy Accidents, have had a suck-factor comparable to my Kirby (hey, pervs, it's a vacuum). Seriously, you'd think that a movie featuring an Academy Award winner and Thor, the Thunder God from Adventures in Babysitting would be much better, and no, I'm not being sarcastic.

Then, there are some movies that are such a disappointment that you're not quite sure if you could ever look at the people involved (and their offspring) the same way ever again. Jayne and Mariska, I'm talking to you!!!

Now, it's a simple equation. A truly spectacular actress, Emmy winner, and social activist is the daughter of a "classic Hollywood actress" and a "Mr. Universe." If you're thinking, "That's ok, Ah-Nold is a 'Mr. Universe,' I refer you to Conan the Barbarian. Mickey Hargitay never quite got past that stage, and that's ok, he didn't really need to. Remember, it was the 60's, and America liked those beach movies that focused a little more on skin (within the bounds of decency) than substance. Mickey was really into those.

Because of this, I thought, Mariska must've gotten her acting abilities from her mother. Despite the rumors, I've always believed that she's definitely Mickey's kid, and if he’s not that great of an actor, and it had to come from somewhere, then...

Let's just say that the milkman was one HELL of an actor.

Don't believe me? Check out Kiss Them For Me starring Jayne Mansfield and Cary Grant. Just load up on tequila before you do it; trust me you'll need it. First day of filming, I'm picturing the conversation went something like this:

Director: Ok, Jayne, here's what we need...Squeeze yourself into that dress (gestures to dress that would probably fit unless its wearer needed to breathe, eat, or sit down), then as comfortably as you can, slink around *that* guy (gestures to Ray Walston, not Cary Grant) and use your best "sexy" voice while really attracting the doofus with the speech impediment and gappy teeth (gestures covertly to nameless "doofus."). Don't worry if you don't remember his name, he doesn't have that much of a career in him.

Jayne: Ok. I get it.

Result: Jayne slinks around as comfortably as she can doing her best tranny-hooker impression and attracting doofus-boy, culminating in a scene where she RUNS (impressive, actually -- seriously, the heels alone would have killed me) towards him and they spend two minutes (I timed it) squealing at each other...

(Actual Dialogue Below)

Jayne: SQUEAL

NamelessDoofus: SQUEAL

Jayne: SQUEAL

NamelessDoofus: SQUEAL

Cary Grant: I'm going to KILL my agent

Rinse and repeat 50 times.

And somewhere, in an audience, Ned Beatty is watching and wondering if that squealing thing would be a good career move....

Incidentally, in fairness, my hatred of the movie wasn't Jayne's fault alone. I actually blame it on false-advertising. It's described as a story about three Naval Officers having "rollicking good time" on liberty in San Francisco during WWII. It's actually a flick about post-traumatic stress disorder: WHEE!! Since it's quite possible that this thing was a train-wreck from the get-go, I'm willing to take another look. If anyone reading this knows of a good Jayne Mansfield film that I may be able to use to reevaluate my opinion of her, I'm listening. In the meantime, I'm sure that there's an SVU marathon out there somewhere....