Revenge of the Chick Flicks

Last semester, I dared my super macho Russian next-door neighbor to the ultimate test: “I dare you to sit through The Notebook and NOT cry.” Everyone cries during The Notebook. He didn’t. He sat through the whole movie and although his eyes were sort of glassy when the lights came on, my tears could have filled the entirety of Cayuga Lake.

Now I know what ya’ll are thinking: ‘She’s a chick, she’s going to cry. Guys are macho, so they don’t cry.’ And that’s exactly why chick flicks are so misunderstood. They’ve been given a bad rap as an easy way to make a lot of money by putting every woman’s fantasy on a big screen enacted by attractive people (Hello, Ryan Gosling!).

Here’s the thing: women often turn to these fantastical — if often mushy — overly sentimental, cliché films to fill the void in their actual lives. It isn’t because of the sound track (because those songs really do suck).

In other words: it’s because you guys are doing this whole “wooing” thing wrong these days. I’m not going all Neo-Feminism on you (which has totally skewed the use of feminism, but that’s for a whole other column in a different section) but there are some things that need clearing up.

Even though we women are all independent and capable these days, we still like to be treated with respect and receive some special attention. I just want to know: What happened to chivalry? If you’re going to slap my ass, can you at least buy me dinner first? Or even ask for my name?

Women love, LOVE, the idea of feeling special; even the tough ones who look like they could burn a hole in your soul if you look at them the wrong way. I can’t even begin to describe how overjoyed we women get when you hold the door open or push in our chairs when we sit down.

So yes, Hollywood feeds us this “ideal” image of this perfect man, usually Patrick Dempsy or Hugh Jackman. As most women will tell you, we don’t need all that glitz and glamour. We just want the decency that McDreamy shows towards the woman he cares about.

When was the last time you heard the leading man of a chick flick say “You pay the bill dear, I spent all of my money on an X-Box” (although that would kind of be a legitimate reason as long as he had a controller for me as well)?

Leap Year, the umpteenth chick flick with Amy Adams, is the latest example. It’s about this girl flying to Dublin to propose to her boyfriend because this is an Irish tradition. When I first heard this, I thought “What the hell!? I would never, ever propose to someone!” I know that sounds sexist, but if he’s not going to make an effort, then I’m most certainly not going to. Although by the looks of the commercials she picks the hot taxi driver (Matthew Goode), I’m still befuddled by the premise.

Men, do you see how lazy y’all have become!? We have to use our frequent flier miles to propose to you!

To change the chick flick glorification of our society is to change what love has become to our culture. Whether that means taking up a hobby with that special love interest (Ska dancing lessons anyone?) or sticking by them during a crisis, there is nothing more beautiful then the expression of love. If this doesn’t change, then prepare for the continual onslaught of mushy chick flicks.