[Editor's note: One day, instead of working, Dan Savage and Bradley Steinbacher got high and went and saw Just Married. Here is their e-mail exchange, written while they were still high.]
Wow. I don't know what to say. What did you think?
Subject: Re: so.
What did I think? I think that if you could somehow capture a fart on cinema... oh, wait, I guess they did that with the Italian landlady scene.
And the scene in the airplane bathroom--or was that the smell of an actual shit? No, wait: diarrhea. The fat man leaving the airplane bathroom indicated that he'd had Mexican food, and the newlyweds, being sooooo horny, went into the can to join the mile-high club anyway. Brittany encouraged Ashton to breathe through his mouth, didn't she? Clearly, they are coprophiliacs. Or their characters are. Or both.
Yes, yes, that was fairly bad, though I believe the farting Italian landlady scene was much worse given there was ABSOLUTELY NO REASON for it--other than to inform us that Italians often break like the wind (as if we weren't well aware of that already; can you say Mussolini? How about Roberto Benigni?).
No reason for it? It was clearly a faint ripple still visible in the pond scum--a ripple caused by American Pie, the movie that brought flatulence and diarrhea back to the teen sex comedy. Name a teen sex comedy since American Pie that didn't include scenes of flatulence.
Still, as a sex-advice columnist, I think it's odd that Ashton Kutcher and Mrs. O'Leary (or whatever her name is) seemed to lack any natural aversion to the smell of feces. They seemed to enjoy the smell of the Italian landlady's farts as they walked up the stairs behind her, laughing and breathing deeply. If you and I were forced to smell the farts of an old Italian woman walking up the stairs, we would make some sort of "Oh, my god! That was awful!" comment to each other once she left. We would be traumatized by the experience, don't you think?
It was indeed somewhat odd that both Ashton and Brittany seemed fairly unfazed by both flatulence and dysentery. Of course, they were in Dude, Where's My Car? and Don't Say a Word (respectively), so perhaps they're used to wallowing in shit? (And speaking of wallowing in shit: Didn't Brittany date Eminem?)
I can't believe that we're this far into this review and we haven't mentioned that Ashton Kutcher is SO FUCKING SEXY in this movie and in real life. I cringed every time he opened his mouth--but not because he's a bad actor. He's perfectly affable, I think A. O. Scott Towels said in the New York Times, and he's got a goofy charm. But this movie's script is so terrible, and every new plot development or joke is so strained and forced, that the beauty of Kutcher's face is wiped away by the STUPID things he has to say.
Sigh. Someone needs to make a movie in which Ashton Kutcher has something amusing to say. Or make a movie in which his mouth is full the entire time--full of what, I'm sure you know. I also can't believe I haven't mentioned my book yet in this issue. Skipping Towards Gomorrah (Dutton, $23.95). There.
Wow, Dan, thanks for alerting me to the fact that you (a) wrote a book (currently ranked #189,401 on the Amazon.com sales list) and (b) are a sex-advice columnist. Just couldn't let an e-mail/day/goddamn HOUR slip by without bringing that bullshit up, could you?
That said, Ashton Kutcher is, indeed, sexy (as opposed to that pasty stick freak Brittany Murphy--someone needs to force-feed her a couple hundred loaves of bread), though your blowjob reference falls on deaf ears (as all your DAILY blowjob references do).
Speaking of blowjobs, did you notice how beautiful Ashton's eyes are? Or how nice his shoulders are? Sigh.
[Editor's note: And did either of you notice that the film section is only a page long this week, and half of it is devoted to your masturbatory ramblings about a movie that no one who is not (a) a 14-year-old girl or (b) a gay man aged 17-65 would want to see? No? Maybe no one else will, either....]