Nobody Walks (2012)

nobodyI really, really wanted to enjoy Nobody Walks. I mean, 1. Lena Dunham. I really enjoy her show “Girls”. 2. John Krasinski who is one of my dream men and an enjoyable actor. 3. Lots of feels (or so I thought).

But damn if I’m not getting sick of these movies. As cute as Olivia Thirlby is, does she have a vagina that produces gold coins if you have sex with her? Because every dude in that movie was trying to have sexy times with her. Her character, Martine, looks to be the inception of a new Manic Pixie Dream Girl. Gone is the weird, quirky, retro outfit-wearing girl who makes the lonely, lost guy discover all the beauty in life. Here comes the quiet, artsy, waif-ish, almost androgynous girl that seduces men of all ages, leaving behind the ruins of relationships as she moves on to do the same thing in another city probably.

Look at how handsome that man is. LOOK. Yes puh-lease!

Look at how handsome that man is. LOOK. Yes puh-lease!

We get it. You’re pretty and you have a quiet naïveté about you that makes you irresistible to pretty much everyone. You’re just cool. You’re doing your thing. You’re so absorbed in your art and the wonder of the world that it makes you seem nonchalant, when really it just makes you a dick.

I even got to see the annoying kind of scene that has been popping up in every “indie” kind of movie as of late. People dancing, kind of in slow motion to an 80s inspired, electronic, synth-y song with lots of vocals that scream “I can’t be bothered to open my mouth all the way and annunciate my words so I’ll just moan and garble some shit.” This movie’s song was “Camouflage” by Small Black. It’s annoying. When these kinds of songs come on at parties nowadays, people do one of two things: they either become very bored and say something like “I’ve been trying to quit, but I could totally go for a cigarette. This song is boring, wanna smoke?” or they proceed to start talking at unnecessary decibels about things that they read about one time on Huffington Post so obviously, they’re experts.

In other words, no one really wants to hear these songs at parties. Put on “Come On, Eileen” and behold the masses enjoying every moment of the song. That’s what the people want.

Point is, I was bored. The whole movie is a denouement (all right, sorry, I’m getting film-y). A denouement is basically the return to normality after conflicts and a climax. I’m not saying every movie has to follow a typical structure – in fact, changing it up is welcome – but I don’t want to watch a movie that’s a straight line. No rise, no fall, no nothing. The movie went something like this (and it’s a spoiler, so…):

Martine: (Gets out of taxi) Hi. I’m Martine. I’m here to make mediocre art that you’ll be way too impressed with and thusly, fall in love with me.
Peter: Oh? I don’t think so.
Martine: Here is my art. It is a video of ants.
Peter: Your art is amazing. You’re amazing. I love you. Let’s have sex.
Martine: We have just had sex. This doesn’t really affect me.
Peter’s wife: I can tell you guys had an affair. It is very obvious and I am not stupid. Martine, you have to leave.
Martine: I am leaving. Goodbye. (Gets into taxi)

There you go. I was bored. The best part was watching John Krasinski. Because he’s hot. Actually, there was a good poem in it, but it was supposed to be written by a 16-year-old which is just rubbish. If some 16-year-old girl read that to me I’d roll my eyes and tell her to fuck off.

* star (the acting was good and John Krasinski is hot.)

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