Surviving chick flicks

By admin
09 September 2013

Previews for straight men who might be forced to watch one of the five worst chick flicks.

By Chris McEvoy

I’M NOT ashamed to say it: I like my movies dumb, loud, shot in 3D and full of 2D characters. Who needs all that tedious characterisation and depth? It’s just an excuse to rob the viewer of heads exploding as buildings collapse on people with exploding heads.

Unfortunately, because I tend to date creative and intelligent women, I have a painful history of being dragged to arthouse cinemas with uncomfortable seating to watch movies where people stare at things meaningfully for what seems like hours and nobody gets shot in the face. That’s not entertainment. If I wanted “real-life drama” I would have refused to go, and stayed at home to argue about why I’m such a bastard.

But even worse are the so-called “chick flicks” every straight man must endure if he wants to keep his chance to extend his family line to the next generation. It’s inescapable. And not only will you be forced to watch these movies that actively hate you, but you’re not even allowed to hate them back.

Your job is to sit there, look attentive and try not to laugh at your partner when she starts crying when the best man dies of lupus or some such nonsense.

So to prepare you for this ordeal, here are five of the worst chick flicks you’ll be forced to see at some point in your relationship. Be warned: these movies are merciless.

Sex and the City (either one)

Ooh, you must have screwed up badly if she’s making you watch this candy-coated turd-ball! It tells the story of the four most insufferable women in New York. There’s the cynic Miranda, played by a self-hating man in drag; the naive optimist Charlotte, played by a librarian; the proudly slutty Samantha, played by a clothes mannequin that was left out in the rain for six months; and the superficial and utterly hateful Carrie, played by a horse. That’s all you need to know. Try not to kill yourself.

Legends of the Fall

She’ll tell you she loves it because it’s a sweeping, epic story filled with love and loss, but she’s lying. It’s a coma-inducing bore fest featuring acres and acres of Brad Pitt’s naked chest. It’s like staring at the cover of a crappy romance novel for two hours (yes, it’s that long) while listening to a full symphony orchestra playing elevator muzak.


Actually, this isn’t so bad, thanks mostly to its happy ending – if, like me, you’re rooting for the iceberg. You get to watch hundreds of people die brutal deaths and an enormous ship sink spectacularly. And the cherry on the top: watching that little weasel Leonardo DiCaprio pathetically sinking to a well-earned watery death. Oh, and there are boobs! Bonus! Now you might be wondering if this even qualifies as a chick flick. Unfortunately, yes. It’s over three hours long, and most of that involves the two lovers gazing sickeningly into each other’s eyes. Diabetes-inducing drek.


This is a sadistic, torturous series of films that bores, nauseates and messes with everything you know and love about vampires. It would be pointless to go into detail about the story or complain about sparkly vampires, because this franchise has already been shoved down our throats so forcefully it might as well be a religion. Just be thankful that as cruel as your loved one may be for making you watch this, as least she’s not that insipid fool Bella.

The Notebook

What, I ask you, could be more romantic than an old person dying slowly of Alzheimer’s? “Nothing!” the woman beside you will answer as she excitedly takes the DVD out its case, in joyous anticipation of a two-hour sobbing session. But she’s obviously deranged. I suggest trying to get out of it by saying, “The Notebook? But we saw it three days ago. Don’t you remember?” Then look at her with a mixture of confusion and pity. Look, I’m not saying it will work, but it’s worth a shot.

Chris McEvoy is a freelance columnist and sometime comedian from Cape Town. He was raised in the southern suburbs, but managed to escape by burrowing through Table Mountain with his bare hands.

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