History? It’s one fucking thing after another.

I rarely watch movies. The last one I saw in the theater, gah, was “Baby Mama,” with my sister, mom, and mom’s boyfriend. And it only served to reinforce why I never, ever go to the movies…and rarely even watch one at home.

Yesterday, I didn’t work. While Cole naps, a full two hours, from noon to two, I normally clean, watch shite reality reruns or engage in a combination of the two. For whatever reason, I wanted to watch a movie. Nothing on Pay-Per-View appealed. National Treasure, Part Deux (makes me want to smash my head, repeatedly, into a copy of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason). Seriously, that was my first choice. So, yeah.

Jed and I had bought a movie, months ago, that we never took the time to watch. History Boys.

It. Was. AHmazing.

Dead Poets’ Society on Ivy-League adderol. Allen Bennett’s play – keeping the substance and the cool, is my newest obsession.

Robin Williams as the quintessential teenage mentor? Fuck off. Give me Richard Griffith as Hector, feeling up teenage boys on the back of his motorbike, talking in subjunctive French and going on about, “sheer, calculated silliness.”

Our beloved John Keating, at the height of his revolutionary teaching (Listen, you hear it? – – Carpe – – hear it? – – Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary.)…well, the character grows dim in comparison to Hector, whose boys, in conversational French, setting a scene in a brothel, pants abandoned, chat obscenely in the subjunctive tense

And that scene? Yes, the subjuctive-tense French extravaganza? Well, the movie is essentially hijacked, for a full ten minutes, by the French language. I barely kept up. Watched it twice, and caught a bit more. It’s blatant and brilliant snobbery, and GOOD GOD, I reveled in every second of bafflement.

NYTimes got it right.

Remember how you felt watching Dead Poets’ or School Ties? To be cut to your very core? To watch it happily a million times? Get thee to NetFlix and get History Boys.

Substance vs. style – the entire premise of the film. It’s not pretty, and at times, not easy to watch (is any really great film ever easy to watch?) History Boys has no real protagonist to rally around, no dynamic plot to get excited about. Still, I say, somewhat reluctantly that this is, indeed, better than our Dead Poets’ Society. Watch it.

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1 Comment

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One response to “History? It’s one fucking thing after another.

  1. Annabunnie

    Yay! You posted something!!

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