28 September 2009


I have resisted watching the edited version of Gladiator with Alex for a long time. I don't like R rated movies. I don't even like many PG-13 movies. I am a sensitive soul, and violence just doesn't flip my skirt.

Finally, after sufficient pestering, I succumbed to half an hour of it yesterday, and the rest tonight. In spite of the editing, I still found myself plugging my ears and closing my eyes several times for what I thought were rather long periods of gratuitous screaming and squelching.

I can see why Alex loves the movie. I didn't love it. I didn't really even like it. But I can see the whole consummate fortitude fidelity patriotism gravitas thing—the whole manly ideal thing. Here is what the film has lead me to conclude:

Gladiator is for men what Pride and Prejudice is for women. We identify strongly with the protagonist. We love Maximus and Elizabeth. We live our latent dreams vicariously through them.

This propensity to live through fictional characters is why men have been so annoyingly dominant through the ages. Women fall in love with men, and men fall in love with men. Yes, yes, I know we are the neck that turns the head any way we want, yadda, yadda, yadda. Nevertheless, sometimes my feminist streak leaves me a touch disenchanted. Strength and Honor, Shmength and Shmhonor.


msjvd said...

You didn't think Russell Crowe looked good in a skirt? Come on, Jen.


Oh, and one of those spikey balls on a chain thing-a-ma-bobs.

Kimi said...

Ahhh I love action movies. I'm a strange girl.

Marie Says Yes said...

oh, jenny. you do my little feminist heart good.

The Rookie said...

I think you are onto something here.

Lori said...

I liked Gladiator. Every once and a while I just need to see something blow up. I wonder if I would turn to the dark side easier because of this?

angela michelle said...

say it, sistah.
(my husband has a huge man crush on Michael Weston from Burn Notice)