Battle of the Sexes

Every now and then it’s good to remember that even though women are still fighting battles to control our own bodies we have come a very long way on the road to equality. The film Battle of the Sexes starring Emma Stone and Steve Carell as tennis stars, Billie Jean King and Bobby Riggs, provides viewers with some pointed reminders of just how far we’ve progressed, and who we should thank for that progress.

I remember watching the hype leading up to the big match between King and Riggs, as well as sitting glued to the tv to view their epic match from start to finish. I was 16 when Riggs and King faced off on the court. My family made a big deal of the match and my dad said from the beginning he thought Billie Jean would beat Bobby Riggs. Is it any wonder why Daddy was my hero?

The movie recreates the vibe of the 70’s perfectly: The hair, the clothing, the music, the misogyny. Carell and Stone are wonderful in their roles. I give this film 10 thumbs up. Yes. Ten. I’m not much of a movie reviewer, but I know what I like.

Peace, people!

Pitching an Idea

If an average person had a brilliant idea for a movie based on a true story what course of action should that average person take?

One can hardly call up Mr. Scorsese or Mr. Spielberg and say, “Hey man, you don’t know me from a hole in the ground, but I know of this story from the early 1900’s that has the potential to be as big as Forrest Gump.

“It’s got everything audiences clamor for: action, adventure, inspiration, obstacles, and humor.”

So what does the average person do? I’m not a screenwriter, and have no desire to be, but I would love for someone to tell this story. Any advice?

  
Peace, people

Dipstick and a Movie

I went by myself to watch the new James Bond movie today. Our newly renovated theater is cushy, featuring oversized reclining seats and assigned seating. Since I decided on a whim to see the movie my seat choices were limited. There were a couple of seats way up front and one near the top. Of course I selected the one furthest from the screen and settled in to watch the endless procession of trailers.

My seat was at the end of an aisle next to a man and his pre-teen children. Not long after I took my seat I realized the man was looking at me. I gave him a brief nod and a smile and put my attention back on the screen. 

Through the movie he’d periodically make a comment intended for me to hear. Once he told me he’d driven in Rome. Another time he told me Daniel Craig’s suit was too tight (as if THAT could happen, duh!)  I’d nod or say, “hmm,” hoping he’d get the message. But during a lull in the action the man leaned into my personal space and asked, “So what’s a pretty lady like you doing all by yourself at the movies?”

The creep-o-meter spiked past ten on the dial. I couldn’t get my seat back into the unreclined position quickly enough, so I simply scootched to the edge and left. At first I intended to pretend I was going to the bathroom, but then I thought, “screw it” and found an unclaimed seat in the front of the theater. 

I left as soon as the credits began rolling and made a beeline for the car. Disgusted with myself for letting some random stranger get to me I sat and wondered if I’d overreacted. Maybe I’ve watched too many Criminal Minds episodes….

Peace, people!

Dipstick and a Movie

I went by myself to watch the new James Bond movie today. Our newly renovated theater is cushy, featuring oversized reclining seats and assigned seating. Since I decided on a whim to see the movie my seat choices were limited. There were a couple of seats way up front and one near the top. Of course I selected the one furthest from the screen and settled in to watch the endless procession of trailers.

  
My seat was at the end of an aisle next to a man and his pre-teen children. Not long after I took my seat I realized the man was looking at me. I gave him a brief nod and a smile and put my attention back on the screen. 

 

Too bad creeps don’t dress the part.
 
Through the movie he’d periodically make a comment intended for me to hear. Once he told me he’d driven in Rome. Another time he told me Daniel Craig’s suit was too tight (as if THAT could happen, duh!)  I’d nod or say, “hmm,” hoping he’d get the message. But during a lull in the action the man leaned into my personal space and asked, “So what’s a pretty lady like you doing all by yourself at the movies?”

The creep-o-meter spiked past ten on the dial. I couldn’t get my seat back into the unreclined position quickly enough, so I simply scootched to the edge and left. At first I intended to pretend I was going to the bathroom, but then I thought, “screw it” and found an unclaimed seat in the front of the theater. 

I left as soon as the credits began rolling and made a beeline for the car. Disgusted with myself for letting some random stranger get to me I sat and wondered if I’d overreacted. Maybe I’ve watched too many Criminal Minds episodes….

Peace, people!