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“Don't You Understand That Everything I Do, I Do It For You? Anything That Might Be Special In Me, Is You.”: GREAT EXPECTATIONS
Sarah and Heather are taking you all the way back to 1998, when the male gaze was still in full swing. Oh wait, it still is.
And yes, before you you ask, “Another Ethan Hawke Movie???” We ask you to humbly deal with it. His smoldering, passionate eyes demand it. Come with us as we confront our potential Dinsmore/Havisham futures, drinking noon martinis with black eyeliner wingtips, lime sherbet eyeshadow, complete with a fashionable boudoir kaftan, surrounded by lush plants and a full figured cat, while wedding cake slowly rots in the forecourt. A gal can dream, amirite?
This movie presents the all too irresistible “ungetable get” - a lithe, blonde Gwyneth Paltrow, coldly using “Finn” for his artistic skill, and cock teasing the boy from the poor side of the tracks into a whirring dervish of life-long obsession, for her own devices. Ah yes, the battle of the sexes or the battle of the sexist? You make the call.
Complete with NYC Beauty shot porn, and a stellar soundtrack in which Tori Amos’s breathy whispers and gasps can be enjoyed, we dive into discussion of the thematic directorial choices that embody this movie, and fill us with Great Expectations of a movie that surprisingly still holds up. I blame the ghost screenplay writer himself, David Mamet.
*intro/outro by Jumbled* IG: @john_bachman_
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By SaracidalSarah and Heather are taking you all the way back to 1998, when the male gaze was still in full swing. Oh wait, it still is.
And yes, before you you ask, “Another Ethan Hawke Movie???” We ask you to humbly deal with it. His smoldering, passionate eyes demand it. Come with us as we confront our potential Dinsmore/Havisham futures, drinking noon martinis with black eyeliner wingtips, lime sherbet eyeshadow, complete with a fashionable boudoir kaftan, surrounded by lush plants and a full figured cat, while wedding cake slowly rots in the forecourt. A gal can dream, amirite?
This movie presents the all too irresistible “ungetable get” - a lithe, blonde Gwyneth Paltrow, coldly using “Finn” for his artistic skill, and cock teasing the boy from the poor side of the tracks into a whirring dervish of life-long obsession, for her own devices. Ah yes, the battle of the sexes or the battle of the sexist? You make the call.
Complete with NYC Beauty shot porn, and a stellar soundtrack in which Tori Amos’s breathy whispers and gasps can be enjoyed, we dive into discussion of the thematic directorial choices that embody this movie, and fill us with Great Expectations of a movie that surprisingly still holds up. I blame the ghost screenplay writer himself, David Mamet.
*intro/outro by Jumbled* IG: @john_bachman_