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Aggravating and cloying from minute one, (500) Days of Summer feels like it was written by a bunch of marketing executives who just took a class on indie quirkiness at the Learning Annex. Joseph Gordon-Levitt (yes, yes, adorable, in adorable cardigans) falls in love with Zooey Deschanel (yes, yes, her giant eyeballs), but she does not believe in love. They flash backward and forward through the 500 days of their doomed and dull relationship, doing gimmicky young-people things like appreciating Los Angeles (most people just don't get it) and listening to this little indie band called the Smiths (who!?!!?!?!?) and trying to remember the tune to the Knight Rider theme. I wanted. To die.
The idea here, the thing, the reason this movie thinks it's smart, is that it's not just another romantic comedy (it basically screams NOT JUST ANOTHER ROMANTIC COMEDY from every rooftop in Silver Lake or wherever-the-fuck-is-the-new-Silver-Lake). It is NOT about a boy and a girl who fall in love, and then there's conflict and they break up, but then the wisdom of children happens (or some shit), and one of them realizes that the other one was the one they wanted all along, and till death do us smooch, then grandma (Cloris Leachman, I'm sure) says something sexual and falls in the cake. You know. It's not that.
Stranger Personals
What happens here is much more true to life: Tom (Gordon-Levitt) is
infatuated with Summer (Deschanel). Summer only kind of likes Tom, but
he can't see it because of his big, fat infatuation. So she says she
doesn't want a relationship, but he thinks if he's persistent she'll
change her mind because of true love and all that, and she ends up
accidentally taking advantage of him, and he ends up getting hurt.
Sound familiar? OH RIGHT, THAT'S BECAUSE IT'S LIKE EVERY SINGLE BORING
RELATIONSHIP THAT YOU AND EVERYONE YOU KNOW HAS EVER HAD. Like a
late-night chat with some friend who should have gotten over it a year
ago but still wants to talk and talk and talk—now played out
on-screen in all its repetitive, stubborn glory. Plus the Smiths.
Hooray?
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Lindy might not like it, but tough.
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And marry me, Lindy.
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I loved Ellen Page in that movie and Garden State rocks. Not just the soundtrack.
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I didn't really think much more about it until I saw that A.O. Scott loved it, thought it hit a "delicate balance" or something.
How did that idiot ever get a job with a respected paper? I mean, seriously, I'm not all like "NY Times == BEST THINKING EVAR!", but that man is so consistently and spectactularly wrong about everything that I now expect to be shocked by the unexpected stupidity of each successive review.
Just sayin'.
/off-topic
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It was definitely an indie outreach program, but it wasn't nearly as bad as Juno. That film was suffocating.
Oh, and I think you might be underestimating how desperate newspapers are nowadays for free advertising. After all, the douche bag reviewer(s) at Rolling Stone seem to give high praise to just about any damn thing so long as it gets their magazine's name (with their "hip" typeface and all) onscreen in front of viewers, so maybe some of them will see it often enough to consider them some sort of fucking experts on film or something.
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Just a string of reviews from him that yammer on stupidly and get everything wrong, but in the tone of a high-brow film critic. I guess my point is: aren't there lots of genuine intellectuals and journalists out there looking for jobs?
Anyway, yes, 12, I'll take Lindy's reviews any day.
B. Oh no, Zooey character isn't developed. And real girls are?
C. Cliches are derivatives nodes of real life perpetuated ad nauseam. Punk rockers don't wear studded jackets and patches? Cardigans aren't popular with east of I5? Tight jeans are pervasive. Shock! Gasp!
We really hate ourselves these days. That a movie would depict us as so, use our iPod playlists as soundtrack inspiration and even shine a light on our vacant relationships built on infatuation and fears of self-reliance is unfathomable. We should riot!
Idiots = This town
Want a calculatedly indie movie? Check every movie previewed before this one. Paper Heart? Whip It? Ew.
From what I can tell, Marc Webb, the director of the film previously directed "Jesse McCartney: Up Close," another 'film' called "3 Doors Down: Away from the Sun," and something called a "Seascape." The writers of the film also were on the writing team for such films as "Pink Panther 2" and "Pink Panther 2". So if you're under the impression these guys have made a lampooning of indie culture and its vacuous nature, or even more laudable, a meditation on the state of young love and its proclivity to lean on hollow tenets like popular media and fashion and nostalgia, then you should recheck your nodes.
I loved Away We Go too, but I would have to agree with Lindy about this movie. Away We Go has a little of the hipster bait in it, but but underneath still had interesting character development and a plot.
500 Days of Summer has the intelligence of a cell phone commercial. Plus, it's attracting the most obnoxious bitchy cranky dumbass customers.
geez. OF COURSE they are going to string together cultural references that are a little bit MORE obvious, but that is because this is not an art film- it wants to be seen! what is so wrong with that?
i like the smiths, i like belle and sebastian, and i liked this movie. sorry- quirky things become mainstream and become "quirky" leading snobs to suddenly abandon them because it doesn't make them unique, special snowflakes anymore. so annoying.
so they chose to feature bands that a larger number of people will recognize than say the books or the magnetic fields- i fail to see the problem.
The Smiths are overrated? Yeah, right -- compared to what??!! I read these comments, and heaven knows I'm miserable now.
a guy who is tired of joining to make a comment.
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I'm sorry you can't listen to the Smiths any more because they're too popular now, but maybe you should be a little less sanctimonious about enforcing the indie / sellout boundary and pay attention to what's on the screen.
She was wondering if the gay thing was all in her gay head until her straight female friend apologized profusely for bringing her to the movie while they washed their hands in the bathroom. C-R-A-P!
I think the railing against this movie simply on the basis of "forced quirkiness" is tacky. I'm around plenty of assholes who use this kind of reasoning as an excuse to be condescending and aggressive. The way it sounds to me, half of these criticisms are shallow and overly defensive / offended / disgusted for NO FUCKING REASON, and that includes even Lindy's review. Stop freaking out by the use of The Smiths or what-the-fuck-ever that people actually talk about. I'm pretty damn sure that's what it's trying to capture.
Now I am no published film critic, so you're welcome to write me off here. But the style of this film was tactfully done, and it touched me, and even if it is the faux-indie-piece-of-shit you claim it to be, that doesn't it stop it from maybe kind of being actually a decent movie. It took real life and put it to the screen, and that's what they meant to do, and that's what they accomplished. Because it's supposed to be like "EVERY BORING RELATIONSHIP THAT YOU AND EVERYONE YOU KNOW HAS EVER HAD," and I'm fairly sure the marketing executives fresh from the Learning Annex made that clear.
So calm the fuck down. It's not The Best Movie Ever Made. It's not by The Best Director That Ever Lived. And it doesn't have to be Your Favorite Movie of All Time.
Stop pulling the "I'm superior to this movie" card and don't ruin it for the rest of us. Some people out there actually like to like things.
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Ugh. Finally went to see this dreadful piece of crap this week. You hit the nail on the head, Lindy.
What some people who've left comments don't seem to get is that what's irritating about the film isn't that The Smiths' music is featured in it. Okay, they're a nice band. But the two "romantic" leads first connect (alone in the elevator at work, of course... just one of many cliches heaved onto the screen) when she overhears a song by The Smiths on his headphones. She comments that she loves the band and then he goes berserk because he can't believe he actually found a girl who's heard of The Smiths and SHE EVEN LIKES THEM!!!
That just doesn't make any sense. It doesn't take a hipster elitist to realize that almost everybody between ages 20 and 40 has heard of The Smiths and lots of people like them. The guy's overreaction of shocked disbelief that he found a girl who's into The Smiths might be acceptable if they were in an elevator in Minot, North Dakota... or maybe if the gal confessed that she shared the guy's fondness for Engelbert Humperdinck... but it's The Smiths and they're in Los Angeles. It just doesn't make any sense.
This problem plagues the entire movie; like you say, Lindy, it's as if the writers are working from an outdated manual on "indie quirkiness." The whole film feels phony and contrived—even down to the annoying and extraneous parentheses used in the title. And yes, that worldly-wise little girl was the worst of all. I just wanted to slap her.








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