PJ Gets in "The Zone" With Bridemaids

It’s Saturday morning and PJ is getting ready for another weekend at the movies. Up at five thirty he manages to print up the box office statements for the past two weeks and to write the film rental checks to the distributors.

He does the tape recorded message. Then he takes a look at the newspaper. Yeah, he’s still a newspaper guy. He gets his news the old-fashioned way. And for some reason this morning he turns to the comics section. Ordinarily he has no patience for the comics, but since he would like to actually author a “Far Side” type of weekly cartoon called "The Box Office," he occasionally takes a peek.

Doonesbury is where he starts. It is also where he stopped. This morning’s Doonesbury hit a raw nerve. The same nerve that Bridesmaids, the movie, rubbed raw yesterday.

Let’s do Doonesbury first.

It’s Afghanistan. A commanding officer is reviewing the file of one of his soldiers from across his desk. He informs the soldier that he is going to be shipped home. It seems he’s had "a lot of neuro-trama, and should have been sent home a long time ago."

The soldier, with grim resignation, protests, and says he can’t go, that "this" is my home.

To which the officer says, "Kandahar? Kandahar is your home?"

The soldier replies, "No, war, war’s my home. War is simple. I know what to do. War makes complete sense to me"

The officer asks, "And your real home?"

The soldier responds, "Sir, my real home is AT&T bills and couple’s counseling."

And the officer replies, "Mine, too, but isn’t that what we’re fighting for?"

Brilliant. Succinct. Poignant. Comic. Tragic. (Not unlike The Hurt Locker, huh?)

A chill then slowly came upon PJ, and he entered the "zone." And while still under its full comic/tragic confluence, he hit the keyboard and started writing this column.

You see, he had also entered a similar "zone" a day earlier while watching Bridesmaids, an R rated movie that he had actually had misgivings about playing.  Twice in the "zone" in less than 24 hours. Good stuff.

An explanation...

Over the years you may have noticed the has developed a bit of a track record for shying away from R rated film of which PJ believes there are two kinds.

First is the horror and exploitative type. He has consistently avoided the Nightmares on Elm Streets and the Friday the Thirteenths. You know, the slasher flicks.

Now generally, the distributors do not permit the cherry picking of their product. It is usually a case of "You want our film, you play them all." But over the years the theater has gradually been permitted to "duck" this category of movie, which, by the way, can often enjoy huge grosses.

And then there is the R rated Hangover, 40 Year-Old Virgin, and, yes, Bridesmaids type. These "softer" rated R flicks are often most sought by those too young to see them. That is why the sign on the door says you need to be able to prove you are 17 to see an R rated movie. And although no prude, PJ often cringes when he exposes the public to the vulgarities contained within them.

And so it was with this mind-set, at one o’clock on Friday afternoon, that PJ took his chocolate covered almonds and medium popcorn into Bridesmaids fully expecting to be vulgarized. He thought for sure that this was cringe time.

But, no. Surprise! Surprise! Turns out that Bridesmaids instead is inspired. It brilliantly blurs that thinnest of lines between humor and pathos, comedy and tragedy. Just like the Doonesbury cartoon. The leading actress last-name-of-Wiig displays exquisite tragicomic timing. One just cannot stop staring at that face throughout the movie. It is a barometer of her emotions.

She hangs by a gossamer thread, yet the audience laughs as audiences often do when confronted with awkward situations. And PJ? Instead of the embarrassed cringe, he joined the audience in the tearful cringe. This, folks, is wonderful film making.

Comedy, you see, has its roots in pain. Great comedians have been known to draw on that pain and sublimely bring it to the screen. Jackie Gleason, Jerry Lewis, Don Rickles. They could all do it. Maybe even Adam Sandler.

And Kristen Wiig does it here. Her pain transcends the raunchiness. We feel it but with a smile. A tear and a smile. Ms. Wiig captures the full gamut of that one millimeter width of the human condition. We do not expect this in our R rated raunchy type movies. Bridesmaids is a wonderful surprise. It is a cut above. It mingles pain and laughter. Just like the commanding officer and his soldier.

Two final additional thoughts about the movie:

One of PJ’s favorite all-time scenes in a movie was when the characters in Almost Famous thought they were going to die in a Buddy Holly type plane crash. Just before the plane is about to go down, they reveal their inner-most secrets in a moment of passionate and sincerely honest last second confession. And then, just their luck, the plane does not crash, and they survive after having spilled their rather embarrassed and humiliated guts. Well, the airplane scene in Bridesmaids was right up there as well. And since PJ is on the subject, he would like to go on record and state the worst airplane scenes ever filmed were contained in a movie called Snakes on a Plane. Don’t bother renting that one.

Another funny aspect to Bridesmaids was Wiig’s mom. She is a portrait artist. Her house is pockmarked with her hokey portraits of celebrities. PJ now has a better understanding of why he should leave his portraits of staff and patrons in the theater lobby and not in his house as he often wishes to do.

Anyway, go see Bridesmaids. You’ll laugh. You’ll shed a tear. And even if you cringe a bit at the raunch, you may just travel into the "zone."

PJ did.