A few years back, after one of those desultory wanders around the video shop that afflicted millions of poor little Westerners before the advent of Netflix and Amazon DVD rental, Pluvialis and I ended up on the floor of the living room with two Ben & Jerry Wiches, watching National Treasure.
We were really ready to enjoy this movie, you understand. After the Half-Hour Browse Of Death in the video store, your standards are as tenderized as minute steak.
Pluvialis and I laugh quite a lot. There was the time that the birdoole fell backwards off the bedroom curtain. Then there was the time when we were in Waitrose and she decided to mess with my head over the pronunciation of "gravadlax". Then there was the time that I faux-swatted at the parrot with a pillow because he was chewing the bedhead, and accidentally whacked him under the bed instead, with bemused tweeting emerging from the depths. That one went straight into the Pluvalis--Xtin mythology.
National Treasure put all of these into the shade. I don't remember anything about it except for the part, close to the beginning, when Our Hero Nicholas Cage unearths a ship that's supposedly been under the snow in Antarctica (!!!) for more than 150 years by dusting a couple of inches of powdery snow off the surface of ... gadzooks! The ship's nameplate!
OK, no, I remember there was some stuff about the Dead Sea Scrolls, as well. And, um ... the FBI.
After the snow-dusting escapade Pluvialis and I started laughing and yelling at the screen at the same time. Every thirteen seconds or so we would yell the next wild plot development at the characters and then high-five our preturnatural screenplay prescience. Pluvialis kept saying, damn, Xtin! We should write one of these! We can put Diane Kruger into a pink Vera Wang! That totally counts as a plot development!
A couple of weeks ago, I sent her the link to the latest in the franchise: National Treasure: Book of Secrets. Seriously. You don't even have to go and see it to get all the health-giving laughter. Just watch the trailer. Maybe twice. And in case you needed anything further, herewith a plot summary from the New York Times critic Matt Zoller Seitz:
"To acquire the cleverly named Book of Secrets, Ben plots to kidnap the current president and blah, blah, blah purple monkey dishwasher."
To that we say, amen.
6 comments:
Yeah...I watched it with my kids. Even at their age there was a lot of YEAH RIGHT and some good belly laughs. Of course, Jerry Brucksplosionheimer is the producer so you know stuff's gonna get blown up good.
It sure is life affirming to share a legendary laugh with your loved ones. Even if it's over silly movies.
Have a good week, my dear.
I saw the preview for the sequel in a theater the other day and was surprised they couldn't even put together a 30-second clip that looked anything but abyssmal. I do love that plot synopsis in the NYT.
I read a review here that particularly hated Rabin's "unrelenting" score: I quote...
"Somebody run to Hollywood and slap the Casio out of this man’s toxic hands."
Bwahaha!
See, this movie is totally worth the film it's printed on for the fabulous flights of critical brilliance to which it is inspiring people.
I didn't even have to go to the LINKS-- I was drinking tea when I read this and laughed so hard it came out my nose..
And Heidi-- "Jerry Brucksploshionheimer"-- SNORT!
Hehe. Nothing like a good tea-snort!
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