500 Days Of Summer Digs Into Real Discontent

Yesterday I used my summer Friday off very wisely. I went to the Angelia Theater to see 500 Days Of Summer, one of the more personal romantic comedys I've ever seen. I say more personal because scene after scene brought back memories of my ill-fated love life in the early 90s.

First, I fell in love with Summer because it tells you straight up it isn't a love story. I'm not ruining anything telling you Tom, the main character, and Summer don't end up together. That's clear after the first words pop up on the screne. What the movie does so well is tell the story of the self inflicted heartbreak 20-something emo-loving sensitive hipster guys (like me - or at least what I'm recovering from now that I'm a maried aging hipster) go through as they project romantic love on the wrong girl at the wrong time. They break our hearts with tiny papercuts over time. But like a dumb dog we keep coming back for another beating. Sounds like a really funny idea for a movie, right? Trust me, it is.
Summer really works because of the performace of Zoey Dechenele. She is the wet dream of any sensitive kid. Hot without trying, funky-dressing, loves The Smiths, just wants to keep it casual, but makes you feel like your the only person in the world. I've been there. And I can remember to this day sitting in the living room of my first apartment after my first kiss with "that girl" knowing she would break my heart. And she did, thank God. Muses like that aren't meant to hold on to. Guys like us are way too insecure to keep them happy. And they're too evil-y whimsical to stay interested in our potential, since that's all we are when we're that young and confused.
I'm digressing. Back to the movie, Summer uses a great couple of clever techniques to keep things interesting. One is not showing the events in chronological order that works much like our memory of relationships past. Also, there's a great split screen scene that shows the events of a party in the perspective of what is expected and what crap reality had in store. Man, that one hit home.
Pepper fantastic music by The Smiths, The Pixies, and the like and you've got a wonderful little movie. It will go in my rotation with High Fidelity of movies that really capture my extended adolecence. It ain't for everyone, but those that feel it will feel it deep in their gut, and laugh along remembering just how much of a pussy they were fondly.


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