Yeah, it’s gonna be like this EVERY DAY…

This is my inaugural blog posting on my first blog. This blog is here to fore dedicated to reviews of movies, food and public bathroom facilities. I’m doing this thing at work, and I’m actually trying to get things done while I do this. You’ll have to excuse me if I jump around or lose my train of thought. Either way, I know you don’t really care to hear me yap about myself or my blog, so we’ll get right down to booty biznes, as they say in the vernacular.
Over the extended weekend my wife and I watched an ass load of movies. I’d like to start my blog with a little flick called “Frida”.

Now, you all know Frida Kahlo. You know her works, you know she was a tortured soul, you know she was married to Diego Rivera and you know her eyebrows were exhumed for use on the Burt Muppet. You probably have an opinion of her, her life, her work, her husband and the communist party of Mexico.
I hope so, because this movie assumes you’ve read up on her life and work. In fact, the amount of presupposed knowledge is so vast, it cheapens its subject.

But let’s get to the point.

This movie feeds the notion of a strong woman being a martyr and an indignant victim.

Nobody in the art world will disagree that the works of Frida Kahlo are personal works. Hell, her works paint her as the twisted victim of cruel fate. Most of her work’s focus is around the pain caused her by “The Trolley Accident”, but according to this movie, the root of her pain was Diego humping her sister. Now, we all know Frida was just as loose as her husband, so you can understand my unease when she is portrayed as a strong woman when she humps non-Diego Rivera people during a montage of sexual promiscuity while in Paris (um… Salma Hayek has some nice tah tahs by the way), and in the protrayal of her affair with Leon Trotsky (a married man) as a pure romance, while scenes of Diego and an other woman that are interspersed are framed to make him look like a trifling dog. Every ounce of love making she does is just getting back at her hubby for being a bastard. She also drinks a lot to defy her pain. Pain caused by her accident? That would be what her body of work tells us, but the film tells us differently. It tells us she drinks to get back at Diego. That bastard.

All in all, the message of this honker reads something like this: “Hey, girls, put down those Barbie dolls that give you a fucked body image and consumerist ideals, and get yourself a Frida doll! It’ll teach you how to be a victim and a martyr, and THAT is a strong woman!”

Welcome to my blog.
Aaron.