Film Review: (500) Days Of Summer

I’m taking to the Internet to talk about this movie because no one wants to enter into debate about it with me in the real world. And by “the real world” I mean the fake version of the MTV reality show in which we all exist. Apparently whenever I don’t like a movie or band I’m being a contrarian, or a hater, or I’m arguing for the sake of argument. My outspoken criticism has garnered increasingly negative reactions from friends. As far as they are concerned, I can’t genuinely dislike something; I am just playing an angle. Like this stupid movie (500) Days Of Summer. Or, as I just started referring to it, Garden State 2 (Days Of Summer). I thought the movie sucked. Like Garden State before it, it was a pretentious, overly-stylized, mope-rock wet dream. It failed on pretty much every conceivable cinematic level. Then again, what was the last romantic comedy that succeeded, Annie Hall? When Harry Met Sally? It doesn’t matter, let’s just assume there have been some decent films in the classification to which (500) Days Of Summer belongs. This film, most definitely, is not one of them.

At the beginning of the film we meet Tom, a (gasp!) Garden State transplant currently living in Los Angeles. The film’s narrator — who is in need of being throttled by the time the damned credits roll — states that Tom is the kind of guy who grew up listening to The Smiths and believes “The One” is out there, waiting to be found. Never mention The Smiths. Same goes for cringeworthy statements the ideas of fate, soulmates, or “The One”. Tom’s got two idiot friends and a precocious kid sister who knows more about relationships than he does. Talk about an absurd, unrealistic plot element! Thanks kid sister, for calling a guy fifteen years your senior a pussy, and for teaching him about the male female paradigm. That happens in real life all the time. Tom falls in love with a girl named Summer (gag) at work (stupid idea), and she’s played by that annoying Zooey girl who dates the fat guy from Death Cab For Cutie. I can’t look at her without imagining his Frank’s Hot Sauce-stained mouth straining to emit that harsh caterwaul of his while he chops at an electric guitar with outstretched arms as it teeters to-and-fro against his disgusting gut. She’s a terrible actress, too. Does she ever not play a mumbling, flighty, “indie” chick?

Because the story couldn’t possibly keep an audience interested for 90 minutes if the relationship was presented in a straightforward manner, the (not) genius director decided to use the nonlinear technique of randomly flashing forward and backward through time. Kind of like a dumbed-down Memento. It doesn’t work. It’s annoying. Pulp Fiction worked. This movie makes Rules Of Attraction look Oscar-worthy. And the mawkishness! Isn’t it just so cute how they go shopping at IKEA and she serves him fake dinner in a fake kitchen? Isn’t it adorable how they sing karaoke (by the way, is there a mandatory singing clause in all of Zooey’s contracts? Please stop singing)? Isn’t the soundtrack just awesome? No, it’s not. The whole movie is bad dialog, some action and a dozen too many montages juxtaposed to the director’s or screenwriter’s current favorite iTunes playlist. Does the Tom character really have to sing The Pixies on karaoke night, or wear Joy Division t-shirts? If this film does anything correctly, it panders to its audience. The kids who still listen to The Pixies or wear Joy Division shirts probably ate this movie up.

Tom…Tom, Tom, Tom. Stupid LA-transplant manchild with his maudlin existence and his penchant for cliche bad relationship-induced alcoholism. What a  contrived character. I see Tom everywhere I go in the Tri-Hoodie Area (Los Feliz, Silverlake, Echo Park). I see Tom at Ralph’s. I see Tom at the Burrito King. I see Tom at Spaceland. He always looks and acts the same. Fashionable, capable, but dull. Monotone. I know: Like Zach Braff in Garden State! Once Tom meets a girl (“The One”) everything changes. He becomes happy, and goofy, and wow, he’s got this new female figure in his life and they can listen to cool music together and enjoy the horribleness of IKEA together because…they’re together. She’s his. He’s hers. Only, not. Because she won’t let him “in,” if you know what I mean. Not her pussy — she’ll let him in there without putting up a fight. I mean her heart. Or her mind. One of those. Zooey spells it out to this “Tom” guy from the start that she’s not looking for a relationship, but that persistent little bugger keeps right on bugging her as if he didn’t hear. Then he keeps acting shocked — shocked! — when she repeats her intentions. “But…but…we’re SLEEPING TOGETHER! How come we’re not a couple!” He says. “Because we’re not,” she responds, flippantly. Oh, hipster kids. Even their relationships make me want to hurl.

FLASH BACKWARD. They’re in bed together, giggling. She tells him about a dream of hers (doesn’t she know anything? never talk about dreams!). She blushes. She’s never told that to anyone before. Cue the narrator telling us her “wall” is coming down. Thanks, narrator! You’re stupid! I can see and hear that! I don’t need you to tell me what I’m seeing. You’re why Arrested Development was funny! Ron Howard mocked you!

FLASH FORWARD. Tom is moping. Again. Dude, didn’t you read my list of the top ten best ways to get over her? You’re blowing it, man. You should be ashamed of yourself, you forlorn piece of shit. BE THE KING. You can do it, it’s not hard. I’ve done it, and I probably started out hating myself way more than you did. Then again…you listen to The Smiths. Don’t you want this movie to be resolved? I know I do. Get out of bed, put down the Twinkies (really?) and go out with your boys to chase some tail. Do that a few nights in a row and you’ll forget all about mumbles the harpy.

Here’s where the crux of my argument presents itself: there’s absolutely no reason for 85% of this movie to occur. Put aside the fact that I — as a moviegoer — am supposed to like the main character when he’s such a cloying dolt. He fucked himself over by not paying attention to any of the numerous hints he was given by the girl he desired. You can’t even really call them hints because she did everything short of yanking his dick off and putting it in a blender while singing, “I don’t like you!” over and over again like a deranged schoolgirl. Her messages to him were laid out so perfectly clear, so coherently, that a man with moderate to severe learning disabilities could have gotten the idea. Tom just keeps asking the questions, over and over, “What are we?” “What is this?” “Where is this going?” And Zooey just hits it so hard. Each time. “Nowhere.” “Nothing.” “Nowhere.” And it bounces off his thick head like the retard with the helmet who gets pegged with a dodgeball in gym class. I’m supposed to become invested in this story? I’m supposed to watch Tom’s decent into depression and cheer for him, or worry if things are going to be alright? No! I’m most likely going to sit in my seat and resist the urge to claw my eyes out in the hopes that he will get his shit together and do something not cliche for a change.

So sit in my seat I did, and claw my eyes out I dreamed to. For fuck’s sake man. Jesus. Just…stop. End the movie. Zooey and Tom’s relationship somehow ends. Then she turns around and marries the next guy who comes along. “I don’t know, it just felt right.” I’m paraphrasing. Instead of looking at her confusedly and saying, “You’re fucking psychotic! What the hell did I ever see you, you irrational bitch?” Tom gets mopey and says, “Why not me! WHY! WHYYYYY!?” and then pulls a knife out of his John Varvatos leather jacket and slits his throat and dies in her lap, bleeding all over her fancy new wedding ring. At least, that’s how my movie ends.

But not this movie. Not (500) Hours Of Boredom. For a movie bursting at the seams with terribleness (unrealistic plot elements, unlikable characters, hackneyed and erratic storytelling, a useless narrator, kitch, hip and “indie”ness galore) This movie has one of the worst endings imaginable. Tom has lost Summer. Or is losing her. It depends on which flash forward/backward you’re starting from. Then someone tells him he’s only remembering the good things, but not the bad things. It’s probably his 10 year old sister, full of life experiences as she is, FOR NO APPARENT REASON. So we see a montage of moments with Zooey that Tom should have picked up on but didn’t, because he was smitten. Something about a Ringo Starr record. Suddenly he realizes what he should have realized then: it was never meant to be. Conclusion, right? WRONG! WRONG WRONG WRONG! Not this movie. That ending would have been too simple, too smart, too believable. It would have made sense. Instead, the movie continues. Why? Because now Tom wants to pursue architecture again? Uh…okay! Cue another montage! While the credits should be rolling, Tom is now learning about architecture and drawing cityscapes on the giant chalkboard in his apartment. So apparently the movie isn’t satisfied with being about, you know, resolving issues and moving forward with one’s life. It doesn’t want to see it’s protagonist (who really acts more like an antagonist in that he makes me hostile) close the book on a bad relationship, which is…you know…the entire plot of the movie to this point. Instead it has decided it wants to see him become an architect now. Okay, whatever. Wait, nevermind. Not whatever. Dumb. This is insanely dumb. In the next scene, which occurs when I should be leaving the theater and throwing out my leftover popcorn, Tom meets a new girl. That’s not cliche. Nope, not at all. Then the fucking narrator speaks up again to basically recap the entire movie for us, because it hadn’t been perpetually recapped during the 80 minutes that followed Zooey first telling Tom that she didn’t want a relationship with him. And then, just before the credits roll, the narrator says Tom might not have learned anything new, but he’s “pretty sure” he learned something. Oh, and the girl he meets during the final scene is named Autumn. SCRIPT FAIL. MOVIE FAIL.

And that’s the first and last time I’ll ever use the “FAIL” meme in a blog entry!