It is a big myth that chick-flicks are for girls.
Men dig the genre too. But for different reasons.
But before we get into that, what is a chick-flick really about?
There’s always this goofball, simple girl-next-door every girl can relate to. She’s down on luck because the guy who holds the torch for her is the original fruitcake, and the guy she likes happens to be the wrong guy.
She, post makeover, transforms into the hottest thing on heels and before you know it, she nails her man and after some minor misunderstanding where she catches him with another girl and takes off sobbing, he pleads with her, goes down on his knees and locks lips for a `happily ever after’ ending.
So why do the guys like these movies that show guys doing the most wuss things? Simply because, they watch these flicks for the chicks.
The girl always has a scene or two where she’s at her hottest best. Watch The Sweetest Thing and you’ll know what I mean. That one scene alone is more value for time than what they show after minutes of waiting patiently surfing FTV shows.
Besides, the things a girl wants from a guy and plausibility of the romance cracks him up.
Also, chick flicks are easy on the bad guy.
In a chick flick, you can be however bad you want, be with how-many-ever girls you want, be a total jerk too, and you can just say sorry with a long speech going down on your knees and be sure as hell that she’ll forgive you.
With that sort of moral encouragement, sex appeal, and of course, the unintended comic relief generated out of the mush and corn soup, chick flicks make for great entertainment.
But the biggest reason men tolerate these films is because they are perfect for the date. What better time for romance than when she is, Ahem Ahem, in the mood for love?
After all, romance comes alive when it’s dark.
Post Script: What do guys without dates do? They head out alone to the halls playing movies like Ek Se Mera Kya Hoga.
Psst: Do check the paper for exact show timings.
It’s a big myth that chick flicks are for girls.
After all, who wants to identify with some loser babe who never seems to wash her hair and is perpetually slobbering over a jock with great abs and a rotten attitude.
If you believe these movies, all women can be neatly divided into two categories: geeks and bimbos. Because, if you’re svelte and sassy, you can’t possibly be capable of reading a book — unless it deals with the art of eye shadow — or even adding up your shoe shopping bill without help.
If you’re a geek, you just have to display braces decorated with yesterday’s lunch and be incapable of wearing a pair of high heels without tripping over your own feet and landing unglamorously on your dowdy behind.
For heaven’s sake, they’re just high heels, and walking a straight line is hardly brain surgery.
Chick flicks assume women have no powers of judgment whosoever. Show us a hunky man in a leather jacket, and even if he’s a convicted mass murderer, we’ll dissolve into wimpy, lace-handkerchief wielding Mills and Boon heroines, according to them. And when they cheat on us — and being hunky and leather jacket clad, they must cheat — all it takes is a sad song, or a bouquet of roses to have us jumping up and down like bunny rabbits spotting carrot cake.
Smart women realise that chick-flicks are ridiculous. They also realise that the original fruitcake in huge glasses is the same guy who’ll probably pass out of MIT and run a fancy corporation.
Chick-flicks are really for guys, so I agree with him there. But it’s not just for the scenes when the loser girl dramatically manages to shed pounds, her glasses and voluminous clothes to become her `hottest best.’ (Let’s not even go into how shallow these storylines are!) But also because they let all the dumb jocks believe their fondest dreams can come true.
That there’ll come a time when all girls will look like Cameron Diaz. When mini-skirts will be the only way to dress. And all it will take to `get the girl’ is a soppy love poem read with the expression of a puppy that has just misplaced its chewy bone.
Go ahead, fill up on your two hours of cotton candy and popcorn soaked euphoria. Just remember, real life is nothing like the movies. And Bridget Jones — far from being the role model for millions of single women world over — was just a girl who ate and smoked too much.
(A fortnightly column on the battle of the sexes)