Kate is reflecting on her life, as one tends to do on or around milestone birthdays. A string of no-good, very bad, choose-celibacy dates has left her a little dismayed. Good thing she’s got two reliable best friends, Evie and Charlie, to walk her back from the ledge – particularly when her high school teacher mails her a letter she once wrote to her future 30 year old self. The letter brims with a conviction that rankles; 15 year old Kate never doubted that she’d have love and babies and professional success. She’s going to need both friends and about a gallon of wine to come back from those bounteous predictions. But it’s a chance encounter with an old high school rival that pushes Kate from sad to mad. And mad can be solved with tequila shots and a blowout party.
The party goes off the rails, as you knew it would. It’s peopled with old flames, new flames, current high school students, current high school teachers, and of course, eventually, the cops. It includes antics such as yoga-enabled keg stands, bubble baths, TPing, unhygienic body shots, dentistry, and juicy secrets. It’s got grossly misspelled tshirts and banners, and a cake that’s about 8 sizes too small. Mostly, though, this is a movie about Kate (Mamrie Hart) and her two besties, Evie (Grace Helbig) and Charlie (Hannah Hart). Their chemistry is good enough to make you miss your own best friends.And while you’ll understandably want to skip the rager, and the white russians (does anyone seriously drink those?), a couple of bottles of wine are always appropriate.
For my 30th, I was in New York City. I saw Wicked on Broadway, drank a couple of bottles of wine at a terrific Italian place, and had a carriage ride around Central Park. What did you do – or can you even remember?
Rather than cash, she gets paid in designer hand bags and trips to Paris. Wait. Is this sounding a little too much like sex with Sean? Not that Sean has ever bought me a sex moped. A “ho”ped if you will. But bags and trips for sure. So there’s a gifty element to almost any relationship. And Blake wonders why we’re so squeamish about gold diggers anyway. History is filled with patrons.
conversation with an elderly gentleman who may or may not have some soapstone to sell exposes some cracks in the foundation of her marriage. Are they even on the same page?
believe from the outside all the difficulties they face. But Mo and Lui are good at communicating a marriage strained by years of putting someone else’s needs above their own, of never having the time to honour their coupledom. We know that this is not Mr. Wong’s first dalliance, and we see the toll it’s taken on their marriage.
The cast is endearing, and I love how director Eric Khoo blends together race as if it’s fusion cooking. The Japanese and Chinese people have had an uneasy past and you can see that Masato has a hard time reconciling the two parts of himself. However, grief is a powerful motivator, and when he understands how his father honoured his mother’s memory by incorporating her culture into his cooking, Masato is inspired to do the same.
emotionally, her physical transformation is NOT normal teenage stuff. She’s suddenly compelled to eat the family’s pet goldfish. She grows webbing between her toes. In her mind, these are linked to the onset of her period but her doctor disagrees. Moodier than ever, Mia is also learning to be more secretive.
prism of his disability, they’re not exactly dimmed, but the context is clearly costly. Too costly, some, in fact most, would say. But as Ronnie pulls up to the supplement store, he parks in the handicap accessibility parking – and even then he barely makes it in. But what is he even doing there? Well, despite the fact that he’s popping the max dosage in pain pills, Ronnie is still drinking his protein shakes because Ronnie is still training. It’s killing him, but he can’t stop.
though Millie’s family certainly will be. In Kings, we see the trial on the tiny, fuzzy TV sets in every living room. People are living and breathing it. Millie is deeply moved by the updates on the news, and Halle Berry’s excellent work reaches out to touch us in the audience. Millie is raising multiple black boys in a neighourhood patrolled by white cops looking for any excuse (or no excuse) to take out their disgust with the trial on anyone whose skin fits the profile. For her, it’s real, and the consequences are terrifying. Halle Berry hasn’t had roles really worthy of her lately, but this is a good one to sink into.
a baby, was always attracted to my baubles. He’d pull on them and gum them as a tot but when he was old enough, he’d steal them and be a very well-accessorized toddler. Another nephew insisted on having his finger nails painted whenever his mother did hers. One little guy had a dolly that he loved to play with. Once, when we brought him to Build-A-Bear, he insisted on our purchasing him a pink stroller for his bear. We obliged of course, and presto, change-o: instant mall hazard, a 3 year old on a complete tear, careening his plastic stroller possibly right into your shins. Does any of this mean anything? Other than that kids aren’t born knowing about gender stereotypes. Most kids will do whatever’s fun, grab whatever’s sparkly, unless of course they’re shamed.
