Well the presents have all been unwrapped, the food has all been eaten and the relatives have all gone back to wherever they came from. Consequently the credit cards have all been maxed out, I packed on about twelve pounds and several of those relatives will never speak to me again. Yup, Christmas has come and gone, thank birthday boy Jesus for that.
I'm fully recovered from my Christmas movie induced psychotic break, thanks for asking… not that any of you did (bastards). I'm hale, hearty, optimistic, ready to move on and tackle 2012 so hard that it leaves that bitch with a permanent limp. But before that can happen, a little unfinished business needs to be seen to, some things left dangling in need of being tucked in and zipped up. (That's a pretty horrifying visual.) You may recall back on Day 19 of that whole movie thing (seems so long ago) I took in a little piece of fluff called Rose Hill but didn't write a word about it. Instead I talked about other things having to do with the setting and surroundings and the friend I was with that evening. Reason for this is simple, I was cheating. Rose Hill was not a Christmas movie and therefore should not even have been on the menu, but I threw it in there as an excuse to hang with my friend Elizabeth. (Awwwww.) Still, there were some who took umbrage to my tactic and cried bullshit, feeling that my solution was an act of cowardice, a way of avoiding making my thoughts on the movie known since someone I know was in it .
So, now that the holiday is over, I'll talk about this non-holiday film. And never let it be said that I'm afraid to make my opinion known. You can however, let it be said that I'm afraid of chocolate fountains, because I am. Just one big flowing stream of germs, no way for civilized people to eat.
Okay, let me say first that I didn't hate Rose Hill, but I didn't really like it either. I was too bored by it to really care one way or the other. Later on boredom turned to confusion, possibly because my mind drifted due to boredom and I lost track of what the hell was happening. Also, Elizabeth had this really fabulous appetizer where you take a slice of this Spanish cheese and spread on some quince paste, top it with a Marcona almond and pop it in your mouth that was just divine. So that kinda distracted me. And yeah, I did just use the words fabulous and divine in the same sentence. Threaten to take my man-card if you wanna but there's really no other way to describe the stuff so screw it. Besides, I'm married almost twenty years now, the hell do I need a man-card for anymore? Week-end trips to the mall? Holding her purse at JC Penny? Trying to pretend her ass doesn't look fat in those jeans? Trying even harder to act like I don't notice that the sales girl's ass looks smoking hot in the same brand of pants? Sitting silently while getting chewed out on the drive home because I got caught looking at the sales girl's ass? Yeah, just go ahead and take the f@%king card, I obviously have no further use for the thing.
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Now with 30% more BLAH.
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I should probably quit wasting my time bitching and get this movie thing done before the little woman comes home. Supposed to go look for new curtains this afternoon. (KILL ME!) So the film opens with four thieving orphan boys on the run from the cops through the streets of NYC circa 1800…ish, they discover a baby girl in a basket. Calling themselves the Clayborne family, they name the baby Mary Rose and decide to head out to Texas since that's where Adam (the black orphan) wants to go and be a cowboy. Suddenly, without benefit of any sort of transition, it's five years later and they're living in Texas as ranch hands. Five minutes after that and they recruit the ranch's lone scrub woman and move to Montana. Skip ahead again about twelve years and the Claybornes have established their own ranch named Rose Hill with scrub woman acting as the stable mother figure. Must be noted that after the first transition, with adult actors playing the Clayborne boys turned to men, it was no longer possible to tell who was who save for Adam… because, you know… he's black. Tends to stand out in a family of white dudes… as well as the rest of Montana for that matter.
Mary Rose, played by Jennifer Garner at this point is like a cat in heat, just rubbing herself up on any swinging dick suitor that comes around the farm. And many do, but she ends up giving her heart away to a nice young scoundrel, and in turn he shoots one of her brothers to death. Not sure which one, I just know that it wasn't Adam because that would've been a hate crime and I would've noticed that. Mary Rose, horny dumbass that she is, helps the scoundrel escape before the rest of the family can catch him. That ain't cool. Later, at the funeral she breaks down crying… not because brother whatshisface is gone, but because word comes down that her scoundrel crush was hunted down and killed by Rangers. This sickening display prompts Adam to tell Mary Rose the truth about where she really came from as a not-so-subtle way of telling the bitch she really ought to just go back there.
So Mary Rose is on a train back to NYC, the two remaining white brothers head out on their own as well leaving Adam, wash woman and some Indian chick Adam found in the woods and married, to tend the homestead. Gotta give Adam props for seeking love in the wilderness though, smart move. Guaranteed she never dragged him all across the state looking for bed linens. Bitch could barely even speak… always a plus. Once in NYC Mary Rose finds her real family who happen to be rich folks. Finds out that she was abandoned as part of a kidnapping/ransom plot gone wrong then finds out that back in Montana Adam is dying of a cough, (it's the 1800s, mucus was fatal back then) hotfoots it back to Rose Hill and then not much else happens after that. Think she might have gotten some deep drilling from a Scottish dude, there was something to do with dead cows, Adam's squaw maybe got knocked up. I'm not really sure what was going on toward the end because Elizabeth and I were otherwise engaged talking about how bad her cat's farts smelled by that point. And I was just amazed that I'd gotten away with blaming that on the tiny critter. Also, I was kinda looking to make a quick exit before she found what I left in the potted plant by the stairs because I don't think pinning it on the cat was gonna work for that. Perhaps if she had a mountain lion but… It was all that cheese and apparently quince paste isn't as fabulous as I though, didn't agree with me and her bathroom is really far.
I'm guessing she eventually found it though because she hasn't returned any of my calls or answered any texts since Christmas and the other day she un-friended me on Facebook.
BUT I REGRET NOTHING! BRING ON 2012!
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