Sunday, August 16, 2015

Make It Rain!

Why is it that so many shit ass romantic movies have at least one scene where the starring couple is kissing passionately in a driving rainstorm?

I'm thinking in particular of Nicholas Sparks, the novelist whose maudlin, cloying, seventh-grade reading level formulaic mom porn has spawned such cinematic gems as The Notebook, The Lucky One, and a superbly terrible film I just watched on the airplane (where else?) called The Best of Me.

And just as with every single Nicholas Sparks movie (and all other movies exactly like them), The Best of Me featured two sexy no-name actors with zero molecules of chemistry between them playing tonsil hockey under a Hollywood sound stage rain-making machine.

You know the scene: The couple runs for shelter, hand in hand, in a monsoon that--surprise!--cracks from the sky out of nowhere, catching the two lovebirds totally unprepared. When they finally huddle under a quaint wooden structure in a field somewhere, laughter gives way to deep and passionate gazes as they collapse into a tangled pile of soaking wet, transparent clothing and sinewy limbs.

Depending on where we are in the formula, the couple may or may not remove said clothing tenderly from each other's tanned, rock-hard bodies. And if they do, you can bet a tub of buttered popcorn that a pair of perky, no-nip-slip, 32C boobs will mash up against the washboard abs of a guy who has gone to the gym precisely zero times in the several decade span of the movie.

Now, to say that one must suspend disbelief during such scenes would be an understatement.

I've lived in a temperate rain forest for the better part of a decade. It's a place that receives buckets of rain each year, and that also boasts its fair share of quaint wooden structures thanks mostly to the U.S. Forest Service. And not once--not ONCE--have I seen anyone, much less anyone completely devoid of cellulite in a plain white T-shirt, run for cover and dissolve into a puddle of passionate, saccharine goo.

All I can say is that if rain actually produced the effects that Nicholas Sparks seems to think it does, a lot more people would live in Juneau, and my house would end up being a great real estate investment after all.

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