This morning, when the trailer for How to Be Single was trending, I avoided watching about it, and doubly avoided talking about it. Now, however, 12ish hours later, when the only things left to talk about are a Duggar and a Sheen, yes, let’s take a look.
(Oh, I just gave you a depressing look into the day to day operations of my job, didn’t I? Oh well.)
In the last few years, we’ve gotten a lot of things saying they’re “reinventing” the rom com genre. Bridesmaids kind of did, though that was light on the “rom.” People, I think, just didn’t know how else to categorize a female-driven comedy. You’re the Worst has, because it’s a straight-up romantic comedy for broken people. But movies like this? Who is this for? It’s kind of cool that Rebel Wilson is pioneering this crude, gross, bro-ish sex comedy terrain previously only dominated by dudes in Hangover knockoffs. It’s nice that studios and audiences are investing money in seeing a women talk about previously taboo stuff. I just wish it were better. Every time now we see a woman be gross in a movie, a whole slew of people rush to call it groundbreaking. Yes, it’s a great step toward something that women are finally being included in the lowest common denominator. But there should be some punchline beyond “oh my god, she just punched that chick in the tit” or “she’s talking about pubes!”
Silver lining: Jake Lacey for daaaayyyyys.