Rachel McAdams and the Perils of Chick Flix
Rachel McAdams is my new ScarJo, and retroactively my Old ScarJo for that matter.So here is a sample of my latest puff piece.
In The Shawshank Redemption, the falsely imprisoned Andy obtains posters of movie stars -- Rita Hayworth, Marilyn Monroe and Raquel Welch. Everyone understands why these images are comforting. We know intuitively how they speak to the male imagination in a way that is equal parts innocent and puerile. The scholastic philosophers knew well that the eye desires beauty, just as the ear desires sonority and the mind desires truth. And Rita Hayworth was hella-blazing! These images nurture a male fantasy life in which the woman he longs for is so transcendently Perfect with a capital-P, she inspires automatic devotion, her beauty demands great chivalric deeds, her very loveliness transports him into a plain of existence in which he, too, has been made perfect. She would never, like a real woman, ever become bored or boring -- she would never nag or be subject to irrationality (however temporary) or a bad hair day. - Yours truly, at AFF's Brainwash.
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Michael Brendan Dougherty
in Culture, Rachel McAdams
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Reader Comments (6)
The women in my vicinity are great admirers of Scarlett Johannsen as a practitioner of the craft of acting.
Which I suppose is better than her American counterparts who have the exact same pre-teen adolescent figure with the addition of unnatural oversized melons on their chests giving a poor imitation of breasts.
In either case, give me a women who can wear a dress without it hanging from her shoulders like a sack.
I salute women's graceful curves that cause them to be so voluptuous and inviting to the imagination.
In this case, the heart wants what it wants.