Scream 4

I was going to give this post a subheading, which I thought was way more clever last night than I do this morning. Scream 4: A Walk Down Memory Lame. But that wouldn't be entirely true, because the 4th Scream movie is not lame. Certainly not as lame as Scream 3. I enjoyed myself, even though I made fun of it the whole way through (an easy feat, seeing as how I was one of only 3 or 4 people who say this Wednesday night show).

Let's travel back in time to 1996, when the first Scream came out. I was 14.

That's me on the right, with my friend, who is arranging a ride to the movie theater.

Scream was a horror movie, a comedy, and a movie for movie lovers. It was scary, funny, and had a good cast. Seeing Drew Barrymore in the beginning was like seeing an old friend you liked but had lost touch with. She hadn't even done a single romantic comedy yet. She was in her short-hair-and-daisy phase, doing interviews about being a recovering alcoholic and hating her mom. And her character, Casey, wound up gutted, hanging from a tree. I mean, that's Gertie!

When the movie ended, I jumped up and screamed "that kicked ASS!" because I was 14. Everyone in the theater needed to know my enthusiasm. It wasn't like I could go home and blog about it or anything. I mean, by 14, my movie obsession was already unhealthy. But this was the first movie I saw as a teen, a movie that later turned into a franchise, a movie that resurrected the horror genre from cheesy '80s obscurity, a movie that caused me to write poorly-structured sentences like this one!

Scream 2 came out the following year, when I was around 15 or 16. It was just as smart and fun. Roger Ebert, who didn't like the original, gave it a favorable review. I remember being broken-hearted when they killed off Randy (my Randy!) Ooh, and Tim Olyphant. I mean, goddayum.

Three years later Scream 3 opened to mostly negative reviews. Kevin Williamson didn't write it. I didn't care for it. I mean come on, it was 2000. I was 17 and busy now with a boyfriend and a cashier job! Scream 3 was bad. It was hacky, not funny, certainly not scary, and the killer was Scott Foley. The soft-hearted RA from Felicity! Ooh! I'm so scared! Look at those puppy-dog eyes! So full of rage!

Eleven (ELEVEN!*) years later, we have Scream 4, or Scre4m, or "Scree-FOUR-um" as I say in my head (sounds dirty). Scream 4 is a little, um, busy. There is a lot going on here, a lot of minor characters and not enough attention to the three survivors from the original. Sidney Prescott is now an author who wrote a book about courage, survival and facing your fears. And from the samples she reads in the movie, man, this book is mad shitty. Really contrived and dumb. Anyway people like it and she brings it to her hometown for a reading. Then some murders start a-hapn'n. Gale Riley aka Gale Weathers is unemployed (by choice, it seems) and also an aspiring writer. Too bad she has no ideas and write in all caps. Dewey Riley is still a sheriff. Like he didn't want to go back to school or be a cop or anything? Whatever.

The murders are not scary and none of them deviate from stab wounds. None of the characters are given enough screen time to make the audience grow used to them, so that when they die, it's really not that big of a deal. Oh well. Emma Roberts is Sidney's cousin, Jill, and it seems that Ghostface is after all of Jill's friends because Sidney had to come back to her hometown. The nerve! There is this hilarious moment when Sidney walks out of her house after some murders occur and there are townsfolk making comments about how it's Sidney's fault. "She shouldn't have come back! It's her fault!" Hahaha. What?

But I still liked it. I felt like it was made for me, like a personalized greeting card. "Audrey, we know you liked the Scream movies, so here's another one, it's half-baked, but still kinda good." Even if it's not scary and I wouldn't recommend it, I still left feeling exhilarated, like I had just won a prize. Some batshit stuff just happened on screen that I got to be a witness to for $7.50. That's cool with me. I think Scream 4's saving grace it's that it's not boring. The pace doesn't slow to a hault whenever people talk. It never meanders or stays too long in any sentimental moments. It's all stab-stab-stab-witty remark-stab-shoot-pop culture reference-stab. Oh, and a little necessary overacting. That helps, too.

* lol. That's an Almost Famous reference! I don't even like that movie but thought I'd sneak it in there anyway

"Til the World Ends"

Tonight I watched "Til the World Ends" by Britney Spears at least half a dozen times. It's a good song. It's catchy, vapid, tries a little harder than it needs to in some parts. The sound gets muffled near the end, like you're hearing it pulsing from a club as you walk by. I got nothing but love for Britney. If it weren't for her I would never get to experience listening to "Toxic" while waiting for the WALK sign. Also I love terrible things.

Here's the video.



There are some moments that feel a little... Off. I know she's always been dead-eyed and expressionless, and that her face can only convey things like "yay for me!" or maybe "I dropped my ice cream" But seriously. Look at these screenshots.

Girl lookin' tired. "These lights are really bright you guys."


I wonder if anyone would notice if I took a little nap at this part.


What's going on here? She looks like she sleepwalked through the first half of the video and she woke up just now. "Wha-wha-what's going on?"

This screenshot comes from 1:40. It doesn't even look like her.

That's not even her! That's Jennifer Coolidge I think. Sweet! She's hilarious. I love in Legally Blonde where she's all like "I'm taking the dog!"

At this point she remembers. "I'm filming a video. WEEEEEE!!!"


The best screenshot I grabbed is right here. It's during the moment in her videos where she tilts her head to the side. It's the really important part.


XOXO

American Girl

What follows is a story of my trip to the American Girl store at Mall of America. "Audrey, did you go in there just so you could snark about how stupid it was?" is your first thought, and no, I didn't. I'm mentoring a 9-year-old girl who saw the big red storefront in the mess of logos that is Nickelodeon Universe (eck) and she wanted to go. She really wanted to go.

"American Girls, isn't that all that doll shit?" you would ask if you were never a girl, and you would be right. American Girl started out as books. Books about different girls of different ethnicities during different time periods. My favorite was Felicity.

Why? Because I liked stories set in colonial times and horses? Lord no. Because she had red hair, and when I was a kid I thought girls with red hair were so pretty. I knew a redhead in my grade school who looked just like Felicity and I wanted to adopt her. Pippi Longstocking was undoubtedly my favorite storybook anarchist/pathological liar. Amy Yasbeck. Etc. The illustrations in the books were good, but they couldn't save the stories from being so bland. Felicity was a horse girl, I wasn't. End of American Girl fanship.

The American Girl mecca was once just a series of books (I remember when they first said hi to their "one black friend," Addy). Now, it's a franchise of dolls and accessories. The books are second tier. In fact, the books could be considered just an accessory to the dolls (an accessory you have to READ! Blech!!) When I was a kid (back in the 1800s!) I wanted an American Girl doll. Well, I wanted one as much as I knew they were expensive and that other girls had the doll and I wanted to fit in. I knew that I would only get the books, though. In fact, I mentioned the American Girl doll over the phone once to my aunt as a Christmas present possibility and she laughed. Rightfully so. Before accessories, the dolls were about $60 then ($100 now).

Fast forward 20 or so years to now, and here I am, at the American Girl store at the Mall of America. Little girls are attacking the shelves for the accessories and dolls they want and their moms are happy to oblige. No dads in sight, but I did spot an unhappy little brother. I looked at the price tags to determine if maybe they weren't as bad as I thought. This tiny doll right here, who is shorter than Barbie? $22.

And she doesn't have half of Barbie's charisma or partying, fun-loving nature!

I walked through the store with a 9-year-old who wanted to "window shop." You know what window shopping turns into? An aggressive, relentless need to buy stuff. And when you're surrounded by girls holding $100 dolls, you want one, too. There is even a doll hair salon at this store. You know, when you don't feel like brushing your doll's hair or are just not as attracted to her anymore. I was happy to brush my Barbie's hair. If I didn't like the style, I braided it. If I think she needed to be edgier, I painted her hair with red permanent marker. And so on.

I wondered aloud to my little where Felicity was. I told her I liked Felicity when I was her age (for like a whole year!) Well, I unfortunately was in earshot of an American Girl store employee. And not one of the bored, sad people behind the register in polos and khakis. An energized, doll-fanatic gay in a black suit and headseat.

"Felicity left our store last week," he said, making this face :( It was like Felicity had died, or like she got a job in Singapore and maybe we'll see her at Christmas. I smiled politely and wanted to grab my little's hand and tell her that I smelled poisonous gas.

My little seemed so broken-hearted. Not just at the fact that she didn't have one of these dolls (her parents must not love her that much!) but that none of these dolls had short hair like she does. You could get a doll that looks like you personalized and shipped to your front door! Unless you have short hair, of course. Because then, well, fuck you.

I wanted to impart some knowledge upon her about materialism and peer pressure and feeling alienated and how none of this stuff will matter in a few years anyway. "You see those girls over there, watching their dolls get their hair done? Those girls are NOT going to wind up on the Supreme Court, let me tell you that!" But it was useless. I knew what it was like to be that age, growing up in a family that has less money than hers does, wanting to have the same things other kids have. I was able to temporarily divert her attention when I found my safe haven. No materialism, no judgments. Just love.