Collaborative Blogging, Film Reviews

Love, or: Full-Frontal Male Misogyny

In the history of the Blog Collab, there have been only a handful of films so hated that Christa and I cannot contain our rage about them.  This is one of those films.

The Film:

Gaspar Noé’s Love

The Premise:

An awful garbage human being reflects on how he fucked things up with the so-called love of his life.

The Ramble:

Our film begins ever so tastefully in the middle of a 3-minute full-frontal sex scene.  If this is the kind of thing you’re into, good news–you’ll see so many endless, gratuitous sex scenes with all of the nudity.  All of it.

As it turns out, the scene depicts our protagonist and resident misogynist Murphy with his ex-girlfriend and love of his life, Electra.  In the present, Murphy’s memories of her are all he has.  Murphy is unhappily married to a woman named Omi with whom he shares a young son (named Gaspar, JFC).  As the film opens, Murphy learns that Electra is missing and quite possibly dead.

A man sits on the edge of a bed, head in hands. Behind him, a woman holds a toddler.
Can’t…contain…douchebaggery…much longer…

Let’s just pause to appreciate the nature of Murphy’s marriage and the almost superhuman amount of self-pity he feels.  He’d definitely be top pick for Marvel’s Improbably Self-Pitying Misogynist Man.  Murphy believes his wife, Omi, deliberately became pregnant to trap him.  He regularly thinks shit like “I’m sick of this bitch.  Take care of the baby and leave me alone,” “I’m married because of a broken condom,” and “I hope she doesn’t make my son gay.”  What a catch.

As Murphy reflects on his present, he becomes lost in memories of his past with Electra and–lucky for us–details the tragic story of how their relationship unraveled.  When Electra and Murphy meet at a party, he is a film student who wants to make movies out of “blood, sperm, and tears.”  He’s the obnoxious film guy who gets indignant when Electra admits she hasn’t seen 2001.  Give it a rest, bro.

Electra is a struggling artist with a drug problem and a complicated relationship with her parents.  Despite their issues, Electra and Murphy fall into a passionate relationship with an absolutely unnecessary number of sex scenes.  The two believe they will start a family and be together forever because their love is so twu.

A man and woman lean close together over a table in a Japanese restaurant.
Yet another reason to be grossed out by PDA.

Unfortunately, cracks begin to show quite quickly in this relationship (and not just ass cracks).  Electra’s ex, Noé (eye roll), has a successful gallery whose position to help her makes Murphy super jealous.  As the couple fights more and more, they go to extreme measures to save their relationship.  Naturally, this includes a visit to a gross underground sex club (I almost vomited when I thought about people having to clean this place), hiring a trans sex worker, and a threesome with a pretty young neighbor, Omi…aka Murphy’s future wife.

A dark-haired woman reclines in bed between a man and a blonde woman, smiling.
A rare moment of fully-clothedness.

What happened to drive the final nail in the coffin?  And will Electra ever be seen again?  Does anyone give a shit?

The Rating:

1/5 Angry Pink Panther Heads

Ugh, the only thing worse than seeing Murphy’s dick so many times that it stops looking real is hearing this douchebag’s internal monologue throughout the film.  I have absolutely no sympathy for this dude’s existential angst as everything bad that’s happened to him is his own fucking fault yet he still doesn’t learn to treat women better.

Just for fun, a selection of Murphy’s internal thoughts:

“A dick has only one purpose:  to fuck.”  (Dicks fuck assholes.)

“Men understand each other; we have respect for each other.”

“I’m not a slave to pussy.  Pussy is pussy.”

The nature of Murphy and Electra’s relationship is also horrific.  This film should’ve just been called Sex or Fucking because what they share is not love.  The two spend an insufferable amount of time talking about what a great couple they are, but they’re actually the worst.

Only watch this one if you want to watch a porno while insisting to your friends at a party that this is true art.

Would Christa have a self-pitying wallow with this one or cover it quickly with a towel (and/or kill it with fire)?  Read her review here to find out!

Blogging University, Writing

Writing 101: Cats = Love

Yeah, let’s just be honest, guys: uncertainty/regret were the words that jumped out to me from today’s prompt. However, I’m sick to death of those words. Instead, I’m focusing on love because I LOVE my kitten and she is underrepresented on this blog (in contrast to my Instagram).

We do not talk about Bertha Mason.  Largely because I don't trust you not to steal her, people of the internet.
We do not talk about Bertha Mason. Largely because I don’t trust you not to steal her, people of the internet.

Bertha Mason takes her name from the madwoman in Jane Eyre. I’m hoping we can avoid a situation in which she burns the house down and severely injures any members of the household. It hasn’t been quite a month since Bertha Mason joined the family, but I’m already insanely attached to her. Since she was a stray, she’s still a bit skittish, though she’s very affectionate and quite brazen. The other cat, Joey, is 10 but has already succumbed to her intimidation techniques.

BM on left.

Bertha Mason’s rules for intimidation of other creatures are as follows (apparently since I started making lists I can’t stop):

1. Make eye contact with your object of intimidation while biting the shit out of something nearby: wicker chair, a beloved toy, stairs. Pretty sure this is also a mafia intimidation technique.
2. Follow him constantly. CONSTANTLY.
3. If you see him approaching, run up, swipe at his face, hiss, and run away. Repeat.
4. Make yourself look huge even if you are only 5 pounds. It’s helpful if you’re really fuzzy.
5. Chase him around the house and don’t relent. Once he’s on the run, keep him on the run. (Bertha Mason is preparing for her future as a military strategist).
6. Sit or stand above him and try to hit him in the ear.
7. Eat his food slowly and deliberately while making eye contact. Do this even if you’re not really hungry.

In the past month or so, Bertha Mason has become a lap cat without losing her edge. She has to wear cat hats occasionally, but not too often because I love her and want her to be happy. I don’t think it’s possible to love her more.


I’m already not looking forward to getting her spayed. I know it’s necessary, but I feel like a Nazi for essentially forcing her to be sterilized. And I really hate making a decision that chooses fewer kittens over more, but they would be kittens of neglect and possibly grow up to be serial killer cats. …Or President of the United States. Sorry, I think the pro-lifers have gotten to me.