The Writer's Life: Film & Book Reviews, Observations, and Stories
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Chick Flick Supreme

Pippa and Friend

One online reviewer said that The Private Lives of Pippa Lee contained too many improbable situations and characters to be believable, but that it worked, nonetheless, and was the most pure chick flick since Fried Green Tomatoes. I have no doubt the latter is true. I’m also certain the former is not. Because the film stretches one’s credulity beyond the point of no-return, it leaves one breathless with boredom. It’s simply impossible that all this stuff could happen to one woman.

Though I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’m a guy. Maybe I’m prejudiced. Maybe the normal rules of aesthetics don’t apply to chick flicks.

Holy shit, I’m having a moment of enlightenment here. It’s like Einstein’s law of relativity, isn’t it? If something is absurdly emotional enough, it stretches the normal dimensions of reality to the point where they no longer apply. Oh my god, that’s it, isn’t it? Chick flicks actually change the physical laws of reality.