Review of Flannel Pajamas (2006) by Alex A — 07 Dec 2006

I saw this movie at a big old theater that has about 800 seats, only about 30 of which were actually occupied. I bought myself some popcorn and sat in my favorite spot in row three, just left of center, at least ten rows away from the nearest person. During the preview for [i]Cave of the Yellow Dog[/i], which I've seen at least five times now (there's this scene where an old lady likens the odds of being reincarnated as a human to that of a falling grain of rice balancing on the head of a pin which I'm really starting to get sick of), I realized that my popcorn was way too salty and I needed a Coke to wash it down, so back to the concession stand I went.

When I returned, I found that two guys had chosen to sit directly behind me even though my bright yellow jacket was prominently heaped on my seat along with my almost full bag of buttered popcorn. I'm thinking, did they not see my stuff? Do they not care? I guess not, since they definitely see me now and they're still not moving. Would it be rude if [i]I [/i]moved? Why should [i]I[/i] have to move? I was here first! I sure hope they're not talkers...

[i]Flannel Pajamas[/i] begins with this couple, Stuart and Nicole, on their first date, which is actually a half-blind double-date set up by their shared dermatologist. The whole scene, which takes place in a diner, is very confusing. For some reason, Stuart's brother Jordan is sitting in the very next booth having a business meeting and Nicole's best friend Tess and her boyfriend are sitting at the counter. (The movie's set in Manhattan so it's not like this is the only diner in town.).

I disliked Stuart from the start. His job is to fabricate homey backstories about Broadway shows to entice potential play-goers from other towns to come to New York to see them. He goes on to demonstrate his ability to weave a tale of deception on the fly and for some reason Nicole finds this talent to be impressive rather than worrisome.

Things progress rapidly after the first date. The timeline is sort of vague, but I'd guess that only a few weeks have passed before Stuart asks Nicole to move into his new condo with him. Here's how it happens. You're going to love this. Ok, Stuart goes to Nicole's apartment for the first time. She has a one-bedroom apartment but there's a bathtub smack dab in the middle of the main room and a shared toilet down the hall. Stuart wakes up in the middle of the night and sees that Nicole isn't in the bed. He gets up to look for her and finds her crouched down peeing in the bathtub. She's so "humiliated" (her word) that she orders him to go away and leave her alone. But he refuses, see, and then to prove his love, he sits down in the urine-filled tub with her and turns on the tap so that he can take a bath in her pee water.

Try to picture someone with her mouth agape in an expression of disgusted incredulity. That would be me watching this scene.

Oh yeah, so then in the morning, Stuart not only asks Nicole to move out of her urinarium and into his condo, but he also offers to pay off her $15K in student loans. She hems and haws about moving in with him but accepts his offer of financial assistance right away. "I'll take the money," she says. From this point on, I didn't like either of them anymore.

Nicole, of course, does move in with Stuart. Their cohabitation begins with a weird [i]9 1/2 Weeks[/i]-ish scene in which Stuart insists that Nicole undress in front of a plate glass window and then Nicole "marks her territory" on Stuart's new off-white carpet. Now there's a Stainmaster ad we've never seen.

When Christmas rolls around, Nicole talks Stuart (who's Jewish) into coming to Montana with her to meet her family. Though they all seem pretty nice to me, he hates them. He also hates Nicole's best friend Tess, who isn't too fond of him either. And he has no friends of his own. When Tess points out that Stuart is a hating hater who hates just about everybody Nicole cares about, she responds by saying "I love him. I love him. I love him. I love him. I love him. I love him. I love him." End of conversation. This is sort of like the classic childhood response of blocking your ears and chanting "La la la, I can't hear you" except that I found it to be way more annoying.

And so Stuart and Nicole go on to get married. Nicole wants to have a baby right away but Stuart wants to wait two years. So Nicole wants to get a Jack Russell terrier puppy instead but Stuart says he hates dogs. (He hates dogs?!) Stuart keeps getting more and more controlling and Nicole turns into a whining Needy Needleton and they're both just so non-stop blah blah blah about every little thing that crosses their minds that I was really getting sick of listening to them. Which is not to say that I'd completely given up on the movie and was ready to walk out. I was in this for the long haul, no matter how annoying the characters had become.

Which brings me back to the two guys behind me. The more the movie dragged on, the more vocal they became, especially the one right behind me. At first I'd just hear just this low muffled growling sort of sound like Barry White talking during the intro of a song. "We got it together, baby". But as time passed, his comments became louder and more distinct until eventually there was this whole interactive [i]Rocky Horror[/i] sort of thing going on. "I'm tired", says Nicole on the screen. "Yeah, we're tired too", replies Barry.

I wanted to watch the rest of the movie sans color commentary but it had descended into such a level of suckiness that I was almost embarrassed to admit this. I weighed my options for making my displeasure known: the loud, annoyed sigh...the partial head turn...or the most effective silencer of them all, the shush. And not the anonymous shush of a crowded theater either; this would have to be the unambiguous targeted shush.

So what did I do? I did nothing. I hoped they'd shut up. I tried to ignore them. I chewed on ice in an attempt to drown them out. Perhaps my lack of assertiveness makes me a wuss, but my few previous shushing experiences have not been positive. There's often an initial period of post-shush compliance, but movie-talkers seem to have a higher rate of recidivism than pedophiles. Anyway, after complaining that he wanted to leave for about 30 minutes, Barry finally walked out, leaving his friend and I in peace to watch the end of the crappy movie in silence. Yay, I guess.

Even if I'd been able to watch this movie from within a soundproof booth, I still would not have particularly liked it. Despite their endless yammering, it's never really clear what Nicole and Stuart even see in each other. When she asks him why he wants to marry her, Stuart says something along the lines of "I think it's about time I find someone to take care of". How very flattering. And yet Nicole still says yes. I guess the thought of a private bathroom and instant debt erasure is enough of an inducement for her to be able to just ignore the fact that Stuart is a humorless, controlling drip.

After seeing the preview for this film several times, I actually thought I'd really like it. Looking back, I realize that the trailer contained no dialogue whatsoever, just a series of scenes set to music. Now I see why.