Whore Comes the Bride
Hooray! Now all those women who had their sense of sexuality perverted by the “fairy tale” of Pretty Woman have the perfect twisted fantasy movie cure for their messed-
Six thousand bucks for a weekend, sex not included.
It’s “romantic,” see? It’s “charming” and “funny” and “sweet,” too, get it? Oh, and it’s “warm” and “sentimental,” because, c’mon, what modern gal hasn’t hired a whore to accompany her to a family function? Hilarious! Delightful! The feel-
*thump* *thump* *thump*
I’m just banging my head against the wall for a while, because it’s less painful than contemplating the image of 21st-century womanhood depicted in this agonizing movie.
*thump* *thump* *thump*
Can I ask: Who the hell let Debra Messing (Along Came Polly, Hollywood Ending) loose, and can we consider that a capital offense? Her character here is barely distinguishable from the one she plays in the awful gayface sitcom in which she stars. Her Kat Ellis is a nightmarish golem-
Because Kat is constitutionally unable, apparently, to appear in public unless she is on the arm of a man, she hires an escort, to well, escort her to her sister’s days-
Oh, didn’t I mention? As is required by the complete remove from reality — and even from the realm of believable fantasy — that is virtually demanded by idiotic Hollywood movies like this one, Kat and her hired sex slave fall in love, even though he’s the charisma-
I love when they have the standard rom-
We must be grateful for small favors, I suppose, because the entire first act of the story is simply not here, skipped over in, perhaps, some compassionate editor’s attempt to spare us. We do not have to endure the arrival of the wedding invitation on the heels of Kat complaining to her “funky” best friend about how meaningless life is without some guy leaving dirty socks around her apartment, nor must we suffer Kat’s adolescent panicking at not having a man in her life to fill the “and guest” role, nor do we have to sit through an excruciating montage sequence in which she auditions a variety of “hilariously” inappropriate escorts until, at the veeery last minute, who shows up but Mr. Perfect Who Accepts Money For Sex And Gets Off On Telling You Exactly What You Want To Hear Even If It’s Not True. Like, at one point in the movie, Nick whispers some tripe into Kat’s ear about what an incredible woman she is, and you have to guffaw, because she’s a Frankenstein golem, et cetera, who would be a trial for any man of greater than imbecile-
Look, it’s not that a movie about a gal who hires an escort is necessarily a bad thing. Imagine — just imagine — a subversive black comedy called, oh, Wedding Whore. Instead of keeping her date’s provenance a secret, our sexually secure heroine announces to the whole damn wedding — Grandpa and Aunt Martha and Mom and Dad and everyone — that her date is a hooker. She has great, guilt-
Oh, but wait: that would be unconventional and might upset the status quo and could even clue women in to the benefits of being a grownup, and that wouldn’t do at all. Might offend people. Better to make a cutesy, safe, cozy movie about how true love will out, even if you have to pay for it first.
Six thousand bucks for a weekend, orgasms extra.