Counterpoint: The Work Wife’s Review of “Wanted”

July 14, 2008

So, Kassandra the work wife took great exception to my review of Wanted. After her initial torrent of verbal abuse died down, I placated her by promising to upload her rebuttal to my review if she would write one. I suspected that this would end things once and for all, as Kass fears word-processors like a cat fears a full bathtub (something in her upbringing…I think as a child she was taught that they were the tools of the Devil). Alas, no. Either she conquered this fear or I’m thinking of some other chick I know, because she sent me the following:

Okay, so I know that GunMonkey already wrote a review of Wanted. It started out okay, but then he went all off the reservation at the end. I don’t know what the hell he was talking about with SUVs and houses and what that has to do with the goddamn movie, but he does tend to ramble. Usually only his first couple sentences have any real content, and the rest pretty much just becomes white noise to me. You know, like the hum of an air conditioner. I tune out completely when he starts in on why squid are better than octopuses (or vice versa…whichever).

So, I don’t know what his deal with Wanted is. He’s been bitching about everything lately, not just movies. And he has this weird obsession with his sideburns. He emailed me pictures of them (I kid you not). He totally needs to get laid—like in the worst way possible. Anyway, the movie’s pretty kick-ass. I mean, you have this movie in which people are emptying guns at one another and a shitload of people get dead by the end. What’s not to like?

It probably helps that I was in a bad mood when I saw it. That evening I’d noticed somebody lurking in the bushes in the backyard of my townhouse, looking in the patio door. I was going to send a few rounds their way, but after clipping the neighbor’s kid in the shoulder last month, I’m trying to minimize my exposure to local PD (and the kid’s mom, who still can’t give me an adequate explanation of why the kid needs two workable shoulders to play soccer). Their patience with me is wearing thin. So, I do what I figure is the smart thing and sic Ator, my German Shepherd, on him. Turns out it’s one of my exes stalking me. Weird thing is, it’s not one of the three that usually stalk me. It’s this guy that I dated a couple times back in, I dunno, 2003 maybe. Friends was still on TV, I remember. Well, I think it’s kind of cute that he’d still be carrying a torch for me and I’m kind of curious about what’s been new with him. Only he’s all like “Ow! My femoral artery is nicked!” So I gotta make a makeshift tourniquet with the nylon rope he had with him and then I call 911. We wait, and it’s kind of hot outside, so I invite him inside where its air conditioned. Only he’s all like “I think my Achilles tendon is broke!” And I feel kind of bad, since I did train Ator to bite to cripple, so I try to drag him inside, only I can’t get a good hold on him, since he’s slathered himself up with Vaseline for some reason. So we’re outside in the summer heat, and Ator’s snarling at him, and he’s whimpering, “I didn’t want anyone else to have you,” over and over again—which would be kind of sweet except for the linoleum knife he brought along—and I think he’s getting sunburned because of the Vaseline, and the EMTs are taking their own sweet time getting here…

(Wow. It’s really easy to get off-topic, isn’t it? No wonder GM rambles so much in these reviews. Hey, at least I didn’t mention squid or get all pervy about chicks with glasses or Orion Slave Girls.)

Long story short, I had to vacate my place until the forensics techs finished with it. So I saw Wanted. Like I said, I thought it was cool. Yeah, the plot’s predictable, but so what? I knew Iron Man would be be playing grabass with some monster at the end, and it didn’t stop people from loving that movie. Besides, sometimes you just need a movie that doesn’t want you to think a lot. This was that movie.

Okay, I concede that the whole curving bullets thing is bullshit, but so are all the ninja moves and flying in those Asian chop-socky movies. Doesn’t keep them from having a healthy fan base. Besides, it all looked real cool on screen. I’m sure people who do martial arts still like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon even though the combatants glide and swoop through the air like a couple of flying squirrels. I liked Wanted’s slow bullets and long camera tracks and reverse-time exploding skulls. Makes it seem like the director earned his pay. If I have to pony up 11 bucks for a movie ticket, the director goddamn well better have made someone’s skull explode. If I have to drop an additional 10 on popcorn and a soda, he better put it back together.

But what I really loved about the movie is Angelina Jolie. Okay, I don’t have a crush on her like GM (who’s probably Photoshopping her into an Orion Slave Girl outfit and horn-rimmed glasses as we speak), but I think she kicks ass in this movie. Especially compared to the men. Look at what fine specimens of masculinity we have here: the dweeby main character who I could stomp into the pavement without breaking a sweat; his douchebag best friend; some anonymous Fraternity guys; and Morgan Freeman (who’s cool, but also the villain). Yeah, dweeby guy’s supposed to be the hero, but it’s Angelina who mows through this movie like Ator through a flock of geese. She attaches a video-thingee to her gun, so she can fire around corners. She plugs away the bad guy with a shotgun while riding on the hood of a car! And when the time comes to make the tough call, she does it—and ventilates everyone in the room. Yeah, dweeby-boy can talk big at the end (“this is me taking control…”), but he didn’t take control of anything. He was out to save his own skin. He didn’t make a choice. Angelina made a choice (well, so did Morgan Freeman, but he chose to be evil). There’s a reason that she carries a slammin’ customized .45 Safari Arms Matchmaster 1911 with Yanek compensator and high-capacity mags, while dweeby-boy carries a (snicker) Beretta.

And that’s why I liked the movie. Because in it, as in life, the ass-kicking hot chick is the one who makes the tough choices and makes everything happen. The douchebaggy guys can pump themselves up all they want to—men have such fragile egos—but it’s clear who the king of this particular mountain is: the hot chick with the gun.

So that’s why liked Wanted. Now, I don’t know what the hell GM is talking about with SUV and oil prices and whatever. All I want to know is who do we need to invade to get gas prices down and how soon can we start carpet bombing? I practically have to take out a new mortgage every time I fill up the Jeep. Goddamn it, this is America not Europe. We didn’t fight a shitload of wars to pay five bucks for gas…

And it goes on that way for several more paragraphs. Anyway, there you have it: the work wife’s counterpoint to Wanted. For the record, I am not obsessed with squid, chicks with glasses, Orion Slave Girls, or my sideburns. Though I am rocking the sideburns out here.


  1. I don’t know that the hot chick should be lauded for her decision-making. She was actually the one that adhered the most strictly to dogma in the end, the one most under the thrall of a supernatural Loom (snicker). I mean, her frat brothers suddenly find out their entire world view is a sham, and before they can even begin to process that information and try to figure out what to do next, she shoots them all in the head, robbing them of choice for eternity. While that does technically count as decision-making, I’m not sure that makes her any kind of force for good. It does, however, makes her a shitty co-worker and friend. I certainly wouldn’t want to work on her floor.

    Of course, with this movie, it’s kind of like, “Who gives a crap?”

  2. I didn’t realize until now how freakishly bony and and strange Angelina’s arm is in that photo. The size of her hand is out of proportion and makes it look like she’s suffering from some wasting disease.

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