I'm remembering now why I hate the New Yorker.
We got it for a year when I was a kid and I decided I didn't like it then. I felt justified in mocking the girl in The Devil wears Prada because her life ambition was to write for the New Yorker. My feelings on it had been slowly warming over time. After all, Malcolm Gladwell writes for it.
And then I read a movie review of the new Star Wars movie. (Peacebang linked to it.)
Peacebang was right. It's funny It totally is.
Yet the humor is somehow empty and icky to me. Something about it makes me want to brush my teeth, He makes fun of the way the Ewan McGregor talks. He makes fun of the fact that people in Star Wars keep their rooms very clean. (Umm.. robot servents seem to be plentiful and cheap in this universe. If I had C3p0 picking up my stuff, I would not be living the the Bohemian Squalor that currently surrounds me.) He makes fun of Yoda. He makes fun of the fact that the storm trooper uniforms look "dated" which is not a shock in uniforms that had to match the ones in a movie made in the 1970's. He makes fun of the dialogue, the set design, the acting, the hairstyles, the robots, the fact that you don't see bodily functions. (????)
Hey, making fun of the movie is fine in itself. I did it.
Yet at the same time, midway through the article, I found myself saying "Dude, the Star Wars movies have been out for three decades. The complaints you make about this one mostly apply to them all. If you hate Star Wars movies so much--Don't go."
I don't know, something about the guy's tone irritates me. I want to say "OK, OK, you're smarter and hipper than every Star Wars fan that has ever lived. Whatever, just shut up..."
I'm guessing this guy watched the Star Wars movie with a notepad, ready and waiting to make fun of every little thing, sitting there in the dark delighting in every directorial misstep, no matter how slight.
And I know I'm unenlighted because I basically like the Star Wars franchise, but something about that seems more lame than even the biggest Star Wars geek.
who is still planning to go see Bewitched, but won't be carrying a notepad.
Full disclosure: I did have a notepad myself when I was at the Star Wars movie. I justify this by saying that the article I was going to write was going to be about the theology of the force. When I got home, I didn't bother because orson Scott Card had already written a better one.