I Am So NOT Money…

Tonight’s borrowed DVD comes courtesy of Ultra-Urbanite Ching, and is, not surprisingly, a comedy film about urban life called Swingers.

It’s a conflicted and strangely arty (At moments anyway) look at single men in the 90′s and what it takes get any action going anymore. I liked it. Some really clever dialogue and rapid fire referentials to cinema both in the script and in the shot composition. It was this bizarre collusion of the Hollywood Lounge/Glory days when Sinatra was king and an injection of the Woody Allen Manhattan sensibility with a little bit of neurotic, navel contemplating Ally McBeal thrown in for good measure except that instead of it being a borderline anorexic in lip stick it was a tortured comedian who couldn’t get over his Ex.

It was like the movie was trying to cram in cool bits from nearly every movie/director that the film makers admired, like this was either a pet project of cool things they were looking for an excuse to replicate, or else a Pay-The-Rent project they weren’t particularly enthused about, and so didn’t feel a need to establish much originality and so gleefully, playfully ripped off anything they thought was neat and stuck it in here to save themselves the trouble of having to craft anything themselves. It tries, in the same way that Woody Allen films do, to make the city a character of the story itself, but it’s just one element of many that are infused into this film.

Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

There are moments (Like dissing Reservoir Dogs and Tarantino’s choice of shots, followed immediately by a shot of The Boys walking in slow motion to music) that are hilarious. Others are not quite so likeable, but still fun nonetheless, and others just felt a bit out of place. It’s a mixed bag of movie, but on the whole, still very watchable.

And the performances are what save the film. Vince Vaughn as Trent has the juicy role of being the well meaning but nevetheless Totally Obnoxious Asshole, who is a joy to watch as he sleazes from one scene to the next. You actually get off on watching just how big a jerk he can be because he pulls it off with so much, as Bugs Bunny would say, “Pana-chee.” It’s from him that a majority of the film’s best lines come from:

[Giving advice to Mike about how to carry himself around women]

Trent: I don’t want you to be the guy in the PG-13 movie everyone’s really hoping makes it happen. I want you to be like the guy in the rated R movie, you know, the guy you’re not sure whether or not you like yet. You’re not sure where he’s coming from. Okay? You’re a bad man. You’re a bad, bad man.

It’s a fun film. A horrible, voyeuristic look into a world that I want no part of, and that would tear me to pieces two seconds after I shook hands with the doorman and stepped into the club. The constant struggle, the need to be “Money,” to make sure it’s “On”… I admit it, it’s too tough a world for me and would kill me in the attempt to fit in. I wasn’t quite sure whether the weird infusion of Sinatra and jazz into modern L.A. really worked since it just kind of put me in this weird retro-view of Woody Allen’s New York–but flatter!–but most of the time it didn’t matter because the start of this show, the banter between the men, the ruthless functionality of their perceptions of women with the sole goal of making sure “It’s on,” was so horrifyingly fascinating and brilliantly delivered that you almost owe it to yourself if you’re a guy to watch and this and see how close you come to the mark, and if you’re a girl, to find out what’s really going with the chatter between men if you ever find yourself being eyed by a guy at a bar and he’s talking to his friends.

Do guys really talk about this?

Yes.

Do they talk like this?

No. But I sure wish they did. If everyone spoke like movie dialogue (Something I try to do, but often fail at in spectacular fashion) conversation would be far snappier and more interesting for everyone involved.

As for me, I ain’t Money. I ain’t ever going to BE Money. Being money involves a lack of self-consciousness and predatory awareness that I couldn’t buy if I were the CEO of Microsoft and had carte blanche access to corporate accounts.

I like the convenience of cities, but I’ve never been a big fan of the ambience of them, and prefer to carve out my own little world somewhere in the cracks and be Money there. Except that there’s no such thing as a Money Geek, so I guess I’m really more like a High THAC0 Geek, and if you understand that reference, you’re nearly as hopeless as I am…