Preview Review: Mean Girls
I WENT TO the matinee for Mean Girls earlier this week largely because I wanted to try to understand what really went on at Abu Ghraib.
I couldn't help but think what Sam Kinison would have said if he were still alive. "These fuckin' Iraqi prisoners, man, complaining about how much they suffered. 'Oh, I was a prisoner at Abu Ghraib. The American women humiliated me and made me stand nakedfor four months, oh, it was horrible.' Uh-huh, right. I'd really like to feel sorry for you Abdul, but I WAS MARRIED TO AN AMERICAN WOMAN FOR SEVERAL FUCKING YEARS! Abu Ghraib is like CLUB MED! 'Oh, but she put me on a leash' YOU GOT OFF LIGHT! Now get back in the fucking hole and take it like the rest of us!"
As expected, the Mean Girls matinee was sparsely attended. Six of us were alone, male, middle-aged and at various stages of advanced balding. And oddly enough, we were all wearing trenchcoats, in spite of the warm weather. Who woulda thunk?
And then who should enter the cinema but the New York Press' own Russ Smith, his family in tow. They took their seats in the row ahead of me in such a respectful, orderly fashion that the rest of us were left awestruck and feeling somehow ashamed.
Russ didn't recognize me, but one of his sons, proudly wearing his Little League jersey, kept looking back my way.
While the lights were still on, Russ stood up to get his family some popcorn. "Let's not be elitists," he told them sternly. "It's a popular American tradition to eat popcorn during movies."
Once he was gone, his son turned and asked me, "You're Mark Ames, right?"
"Um, yes," I said. "Why?"
"Hey, I just want to tell you I read everything you write," he said. "You're my favorite columnist. A lot better than my dad."
"Oh, I don't know about that," I said. "Your dad is talented. He's just a little misguided."
The son gave me a disappointed look. "I thought you'd understand," he said, sulking. "Forget it." He turned around angrily.
A few minutes later, he turned to me again. Pulling contemptuously on his jersey, he said, "He makes me play this stupid game." Before I could respond, he turned back around and sulked, folding his arms.
I should have watched the previews, but the experience left me shaken and unable to focus. Then, during the opening scene of Mean Girls, when the black principal stares at Tina Fey's wet t-shirt, Russ grumbled something about "sexism" and ordered his family to stand up and file out in an orderly fashion.
Mean Girls isn't a mean movie. It's funny and sweet, and in the end everything works out great for everyone, even the mean girls. I suppose that's the lesson about Abu Ghraib. Too bad Russ wasn't there to see it.
MARK AMES