We met as roommates in a Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, apartment with a revolving door that spun faster than an exit at a shifty telemarketing company and had more drama than any season of The Real World. Two years later, we no longer live together, but have remained close friends and have now joined forces to bring you: Two Black Girls at the Movies.

Ironically, the project started when Siobhan’s laptop caught a virus while trying to watch a bootleg movie online. When she called her service provider (shout outs to Cablevision) to reset her modem, she was informed of a free program which gives customers complimentary weekly tickets to the movies!

The following Tuesday the weekly adventures commenced. And since then, we take the beloved MTA trains to Manhattan to join what sometimes feels like the entire Tri-State Area for a free movie.

Sometimes the movies are good (It's Complicated), sometimes the movies are bad (Dear John), and sometimes the movies are so bad that they are good (drawing a blank here). Often times the best part of our escapades come from the unpredictable antics of our fellow movie-goers, like when the man seated next to us repeatedly cut the cheese or the post-movie powwow in the ladies room when we learned about the homeless couple who smelled so rancid that people walked out of the theatre.

Instead of a thumb ups or thumbs down rating system, we rate movies on how badly you need a cocktail after (and in some cases, before) watching them. Since some of the films being released lately have been so bad, you end up feeling like you’re in dire need of a bar.

No matter what the story, whether on the screen or in the theatre, we give you the smart, sassy, and straight-talking opinions of Two Black Girls at the Movies.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Greenberg


By Dana Verde

Okay, so me and Siobhan are living up to the stereotype of our race and submitting our review in CP time––like five days late––lol.

Last week was her choice and we watched Greenberg. OMG! Though the film is set in LA, I felt like I was watching a pathetic documentary on an aging hipster in my hood––I live in Bed-Stuy.

The film took me back to those old school "me, myself, and I" films that were big in the New York Indie Film Scene in the 90s. It's hard to have sympathy for a privileged suburban urbanite. (You know those kids that move to NYC for college from east bumble who knows where and become so very "URBAN"?)

The protagonist, played by Ben Stiller, is a coke head alkie with a Peter Pan complex and from what I saw on the big screen was a very bad lay. His leading lady sobs after he tries to put it down. I felt annoyed from beginning to end and to make matters worse someone sitting near us let out the nastiest fart I've ever smelled and I couldn't run for cover because I was stuck in the middle of the row.

Anyways, not a fun time, except for afterwards when I went to BBQ's and got a pina colada with an extra shot! WOO-HOO!
Rating: You definitely need a drink after––maybe two actually.
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1 comment:

  1. JulesieApril 28, 2010 at 11:54 AM

    I love it....It is hilarious and witty.
    I can't wait to read more....Mom.

    ReplyDelete

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