Thursday, December 22

Jesus Loves You More Than You Will Know.


I saw The Graduate for the first time the other day, and even though it's "a classic" and "Simon and Garfunkel soundtracked it" and it's a "Garfunkel classic" and "Simon" and "it's a classic", I totally hated it. Like, despised it. The affair is somehow the most believable part in the entire movie, or at least more believable than Benjamin's parents buying him a diving suit for his graduation gift so he can rummage around the bottom of the suburban pool without breathing. Why wouldn't they nag him about that, about how ungrateful he's being by not using his expensive deep sea diving equipment instead of relentlessly asking him to go out on a date with Mr. and Mrs. Robinson's daughter, Elaine? If this was run by my parents, Benjamin would have been grounded all summer long until he found a job at the beach that was far enough from the water where he couldn't drown on duty, but close enough to the water where he might get a tan for the first time in his life, for heaven's sake, to pay back the cost of the gift that went so horrifically unused.

And, speaking of that prelude to Teen Mom-level relationship havoc, the only way that Elaine broad could like Benjamin is if she's been Stockholm Syndromed through his crazy-creepy college stalking. The only non-terrible thing he ever did to her was buy her a tasty drive-in cheeseburger, and that's not nearly enough to keep her from running out on that hot blonde at the altar.

Also, how could no one called him a "mother fucker" at any point in the film? At all?? I find that terribly hard to believe. Anne Bancroft could have said anything in that wicked leopard print jacket and gotten away with it, but instead she just gives ol' Benny the cold shoulder and says she's turribly mad at him. God bless that broad.

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