Bridesmaids (2011)

It’s not easy being a woman. Not even a wealthy American woman, apparently.

After being praised by feminists and critics as not only one of those rare movies that are actually about women, but also genuinely smart, warm and funny, you’d expect Bridesmaids to tone down the hysterical female stereotype that made audience reactions to the Sex & the City movies so diverse. Not so much so.

Believe it or not, I have female friends. They’re like guys, except good-looking. But when girls wander off to Chick Land, something happens. Life is very different there. When you meet a cute guy, you run away. Sleeping around is encouraged (“You go, girl!”) and looked down upon (“What a slut!”) at the same time. Luxury is both the height of pleasure and pathetically over-the-top. And if you’re out of luck, all it takes to make your fellow women hate you is being pretty. Which is of course also one of the main things you strive for.

Bad dramas are boring, but comedy is like horror and porn. It doesn’t take a lot of brains to make loads of money. Bridesmaids is not a dumb movie. You’ll most likely not be bored. You’ll laugh and perhaps even cry with and at those whose menstrual pains I’ll never experience and for whom the disco ball shines just a little bit brighter than I’ll ever apprehend.

In the process of becoming an adult, you learn to accept that there are different kinds of people, with different sets of morals and ways of thinking. I’m not quite there yet.


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