I remember watching this movie. I remember enjoying this movie.

But I don't remember watching this movie or enjoying it since I've sobered up.

But, for some reason (it's amazing how many times I preface a report of some instance of Ethel's behavior with the phrase "for some reason". This implies that there is a reason for Ethel's behaviors - however, there is no justification for such an assumption. Perhaps I should change that preface...let's try something else...

For no reason at all - due entirely to a few drops of estrogen getting mixed up with a synaptic jump from neuron to neuron (possibly some of the neurons that hold Ethel's memories of the Seventies, fragmented though they might be) - Ethel decided that we had to purchase and view this movie.

I wasn't averse to it - as I said, I recall seeing it and enjoying it, and (of course) even trying to dance like Tony Manero in my youth.

But now, having seen it as an adult - I am appalled. It's not just a bad movie - it is a terrible movie. No, wait - it's not just a terrible movie - it's a terrible movie with coarse, crude language, no story line whatsoever, and not a single likeable character. (The most principled, likable character (or perhaps I should say "the least unprincipled, least detestable character") in the entire movie is the guy who gave up the priesthood because he didn't want to be celibate. Yep - that's the hero. Kinda lets you know what the villains might be like : )

I suppose that the moviemakers might have had a message; perhaps they were making a comment on modern life, something to the effect that "hey, life is a bucket of poop with the handle inside and firmly affixed to the bottom" - but if they're gonna send that message, do they have to do so with a soundtrack that sounds like Gloria Gaynor meets Alvin and the Chipmunks? All day long I've been walking around with my genitalia squeezed into a super-small jockstrap, trying to hit the notes on "More Than A Woman" (don't try this at home, kids - I'm a trained professional).

However, I'm very grateful to say that we found an antidote - after finishing this mess of a movie (and finish it we did, or at least I did, because I had to make sure that there wasn't any redeeming quality about the movie at all), anyway, as the last strains of the last bit of music died down, Ethel put "The Hudsucker Proxy" into the DVD player.

The Hud is,  to my way of thinking, the best of the Coen Brothers movies, and probably the least offensive (the other likely candidate being "Oh Brother Where Art Thou") - and it is absolutely delightful. Jennifer Jason Leigh's character is amazing - and her dialogue is pretty much justification for turning on the subtitles. And that's something that you need to be warned about - if you are of the MTV generation, be prepared for actual dialogue; people speaking in whole paragraphs at a time (sometimes without taking a breath). It's snappy patter, too, and B-movie great Bruce Campbell has a supporting role ("that's him right there, Ethel - see him? That's Bubba Ho-tep!")

I've decided not to throw Saturday Night Fever out, or even donate it to the library - I wouldn't donate it because I wouldn't do that to anybody else, and I'm not going to throw it out because I want to have it here for the next time Ethel decides to do something. I want to be able to point at this DVD and say "Remember how you just had to have Saturday Night Fever, how you just had to watch it again?"

Not that I expect that to work. That would involve "reason", and I think we've already dispensed with pretending that that is an attribute of Ethel's decision making process : )