2006-11-27

I take it back (sort of) about Sting.

It�s not often that I feel as though I have to recant, seeing as how I�m ALWAYS RIGHT, but recently I�ve had a bit of a change of heart regarding the magnificent douchebag known as �Sting.�

Note that I still believe him to be an unequivocal douchebag. But he�s a magnificent one. He really is. I discovered this only this past weekend, when the Universe bestowed upon me a used copy of The Bride on DVD.

I hadn�t seen this particularly masturbatory piece of filmmaking in a few years. I remember seeing it and adding it to my mental list of Reasons To Hate Sting but now I see just how very wrong I was. Because that movie is all kinds of brilliant, in no small part because of the Utter Magnificence that Sting displays in just about every conceivable aspect. Even his HAIR is magnificent!

Understand that up until I popped that movie into the player, I was in a state of extreme grumpiness. The long holiday weekend was nearly over, it was pitch black outside by 4:30 in the afternoon, and I was dreading the inevitable pile awaiting me at work the next morning. Any thankfulness I had been feeling had pretty much evaporated. I was rendered nearly inconsolable from the sucking-ness of it all, until I started watching The Bride and got pulled into Sting�s magnificent vortex.

There he was, in his magnificent period costumes, flipping his magnificent barely-post-Police-white-blonde-semi-mullet, sneering magnificently. And�oh! There he is in a shaft of moonlight, magnificently highlighting those magnificent cheekbones that he used to have. Remember, chickens? Remember those cheekbones? Magnificent!

The houseboy prefers the secondary storyline, about the Creature�s search for true love and his friendship with a circus midget, saying that this could�ve been a great movie in and of itself, and the whole �Bride of Sting� plot just gunks up the works. But he is wrong. This movie is all about Sting, and it should�ve just stuck to Sting, and there should�ve been more shots of his magnificent bone structure, and I would�ve liked even more of a magnificent struggle there with Jennifer �Flashdance� Beals as he tried to conquer her indomitable spirit, not to mention her reanimated undead va-jay-jay. What a feeling!

Don�t get me wrong � I�m still no fan of Sting, with his lute-plucking, tantric-sex-having ways. I think he�s a supercilious tit, even as I admire his magnificent douchebaggery (or, rather � better � the director�s ability to harness that douchebaggery to the immediate benefit of the production. I don�t think much �acting� had to happen there, you know, akin to Faye Dunaway�s �performance� in Mommie Dearest.). But I�m awfully glad that I own this film on DVD, and can relive the magnificence whenever life throws me a less-than-magnificent curve ball.

lisamcc at 3:06 p.m.



1 comments so far
Tina
2006-12-18 21:54:50
Knock, knock...
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