My parents were not big on any sort of celebrations growing up, when I was younger I thought it was because they were cruel but now that I have to pay for my own Netflix subscription I realize it’s because it’s really fucking expensive to have to buy 5 children gifts. As we’ve gotten older though we sort of half do Christmas but Thanksgiving is like an orphan’s holiday. There’s just a bunch of people lurking around New York with no real traditional plans. I ONCE had people over for Thanksgiving but the whole thing is morose why would I spend hours trying to shove herbs into a Turkey’s HOLE just so we can pretend it sort of tastes good (TURKEY IS THE WORST OF ALL MEATS).
I mean I don’t really care about Thanksgiving other than it makes me feel like I should care and I always decide to stay home and do nothing which seems like the best plan until half way through the afternoon when it starts to be kind of depressing. It’s also kind of a weird and fucked up holiday historically, it’s up there with Columbus day but I digress.
ANYWAYS these are probably going be the movies I play during the “””holidays””” they are mostly cheesy as shit but that’s because crying into mashed potatoes that you ordered on seamless is truly the move.
Bunny Lake Is Missing
I know that whenever I put out this column I spoil the plot to several movies, and this one is from like 1960-something so you’ve had time BUT—I’m not going to do it this time. This is a good thriller and that’s it.
Bridget Jones’ Diary
I didn’t always get this movie but the longer I live on this retched planet and deal with straight men and models the more it makes sense. She is attractive don’t get me wrong but this is one of the better attempts at choosing a woman who subverts traditional stereotypes of leading ladies (barely ok—I mean yes, straight, “plump,” blonde but you understand me).
When my mom gave me her record collection she had the soundtrack to a French film called Diva which is how I came across director Jean-Jacques Beineix and then eventually Betty Blue (which I believe has like a completely different name in french like 37 degrees or some shit). Anyways this movie is essentially…. I’m not sure what the point is. Maybe movies don’t need to have points. This one though is not nihilist on purpose which I guess adds to the confusion. Betty isn’t exactly a manic pixie dream girl but she’s somewhere close (or maybe I am projecting because she’s a 19 year old in love with a 30 year old idk!!).
They recently took this off of all streaming platforms which seems like cruel and unusual punishment but the internet exists so just bootleg it on YouTube or something. I watch this movie whenever I am sad-ish or in the middle of a depressive episode. There is just something comforting about Patrick Swayze’s very intense emotional state and Baby’s sister being the most god damn bizarre person in all of history.
I think I’ve written about this movie before but it’s what I think of every time it’s quiet in the city, every Sunday morning when you get up before the hordes, and every holiday when the non-orphaned masses fill out of town. This is very early Jarmusch and it’s also just a beautiful portrait of a New York that we’ll never see again.