As a child raised on television and pop culture, unlike dear Disillusioned Dilettante who was raised by CNBC and folk tales of Reagan in his Hollywood days, I have, at various points in time, developed romantic feelings for fictional characters. Don’t act like this is weird. Don’t act like you can’t relate. Don’t repress those memories. Embrace the fact you were in love with the figment of some dirty screenwriter’s who never existed, let alone someone who could actually disappoint you. This is getting dark. TO THE LIST! (DISILLUSIONED DILETTANTE OBLIGATORY ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT SHOUT OUT: “TO THE NUTS” – Uncle Jack)
If you thought this could start any other way, well, then my name isn’t Arch Stanton! (NOTE: my name is not Arch Stanton). Marion was an all-time badass – we first see her slugging down Nepali grog with the locals where she not only is hanging with them in a drinking contest, but winning. This has already endeared her to me as a child who had yet to drink – I know an elegant lady when I see one. This scene continues with Marion sassing Indiana Jones, which we can contextualize as “a woman telling a man to go pound sand in the 1940’s” (progressive!), and then beating some Nazi ass. This pattern continues throughout the movie – “Indy, what the fuck are you doing”, punch Nazi, “Indy don’t do that”, shoot Nazi. She didn’t need to be told twice not to look at the Ark, so she would be adequately prepared for the majesty of seeing me without my shirt on. Pluses abound!
I love a confident, intelligent and self-reliant woman, and Marion possesses all of these in spades. Plus she is anti-Nazi, an important distinction to make early in this modern dating scene. If we’re going to get shallow (and we will obviously, you’ve read other things in this forum before), she has the most wonderful smile and freckles. The freckles absolutely killed me as a ten-year old, so much so that things I remembered about Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark after seeing first seeing it were 1.) Melted face, 2.) Marion’s freckles. Freckles will be a recurring theme for those preparing for the test at the end.
We’ll pretend Kingdom of the Crystal Skull and Mutt Williams never happened. If you don’t know, consider yourself blessed.
Looking back, I don’t understand the reasoning behind the making of Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Imagine the pitch (it’s 1988, there are mounds of cocaine everywhere, everyone is celebrating the Golden Years of America as the Era of Reagan continues under the guise of George Bush):
– Exec 1: “How about a dark film noir about an alcoholic detective, roped back into one last gig to exonerate a man framed for murder who’s wife is cheating on him?”
– Exec 2: “YES, an edgy violent thriller!”
– Exec 1: “BUT FOR KIDS!”
– Exec 2: “…”
– Exec 1: “AND ITS LIKE, PARTIALLY ANIMATED”
– Exec 2: “…”
/both do a huge line
ANYWAY, I never understood the plot of this movie, and after reading the Wikipedia for the plot summary, I understand it less now than I previously did. But the purpose of Jessica Rabbit was very apparent – sexually confuse children with a cartoon bombshell with a bust roughly three times the size of her hips. I am unsure if my lifelong lust is a result of Jessica Rabbit, or if she was merely an early piece of this puzzle.
Unrelated to my affinity for Jessica Rabbit, but one of my favorite little things is to search “Jessica Rabbit” on Instagram after Halloween. Sends me right to my fainting couch every year.
Diane spent most of her time on Cheers a neurotic trainwreck, toggling between being harassed by Sam Malone and emasculating him; in other words, she was the female lead in an 80’s sitcom. She’s very wispy, intelligent (or at least good at emulating an intelligent person), high-on-her-horses, elegantly snobby girl prone to long winded speeches or poetic quotations. Who doesn’t love poetry, amiright?!? She commonly leads Sam on, only to change her mind or prove to be difficult once things start to go her way, and at one point forcing Sam to propose roughly a dozen times, finding reasons to say no each time. That’s the type of emotional abuse I’m looking for in a woman!
I liked Diane a fair amount, and then my fondness grew exponentially upon seeing her half-assed replacement with Kirstie Alley’s Rebecca Howe. Give me a woman who will treat me like shit any day over a undiagnosed lunatic masquerading as a Scientologist. The point being, Diane seems like an obtainable mess of a person I would enjoy being around. This probably says a lot more about me than it does her.
The most predictable entry on this list. I like to think I was picking up what novel-Hermione was putting down as I read the first few Harry Potter books, but let’s be real – we liked Emma Watson. She was very intelligent, pro-active, and if we’re being real, the only member of the Harry-Ron-Hermione trifecta worth a shit. How would this series have been different if Hermione Granger was the title character? It would have been over in a book and a half with Hermione still maintaining a 4.0 GPA. “Oh, but Harry was so brave!” Brave is what leads people into thinking they can drive after starting St Patrick’s Day at 7 am, or trying to put hats on bears. The point I’m getting at is Hermione was a babe, and she’d be proud to be the breadwinner. She could win my bread any day, ya know what I mean? (NOTE: This is the dumbest conclusion.)
Aww yeah, more animated redheads! To borrow some adjectives from Wikipedia: “assertive, confident, adventurous, and popular high school student who moonlights as a crime-fighter”, “flustered despite her own good looks, multiple talents, and heroics” and “suffer[ing] from perfectionism, and can be pushy, bossy, and very headstrong.” Middle school me was SOLD. I was not especially cool (SHOCKING REVELATION ABOUT THE GUY WRITING ABOUT CARTOON REDHEADS, I KNOW), so I think I was most into the fact Kim was cool more than a badass, still knowing deep down that she would be shitty to me if she were real. I liked that she was a high-strung perfectionist, because so was I, preferring to do all my homework on Friday afternoon instead of, ya know, going outside or playing videos. I showed all the haterz but going on to BIG things, like, uhh, writing anonymously on a blog devoted to Reagan fan fiction.
If you can’t tell, I am struggling to identify why I liked Kim Possible so much. She was a fox who beat people up. I don’t think I need to further defend my selection.
FINALLY to the Game of Thrones section, or, the “definitely old enough to know better” part of this essay. Margaery is graceful, resplendent, clever, witty and the center of any room she is in. I find myself wildly attracted to her personality knowing full well she would manipulate me and bend me to her will. COUNTERPOINT: looks absolutely idyllic topless. And fully clothed, for that matter. I stand by my decision.
At the risk of overloading on Game of Thrones nerdom…
That’s what I’m talking about. Another self-possessed badass who is taking no shit from anyone. And has red hair. Unlike Hermioe, who I believe I (probably) retroactively had a crush on in the books, there was no doubt when Ygritte showed up. She was down right shitty to Jon Snow, who if we’re being totally honest, deserved it, and constantly pulled his ass out of danger. She doesn’t possess the sophistication of others on this list, but makes up for it by being the biggest badass, being the only woman on a roving gang of wildlings. Because this is Game of Thrones – also looks great naked.
Takeaways: Part of me wants to paint this as an interesting tapestry reflecting on who I am, but c’mon – it’s pretty obvious. I like women who would never tolerate my shit in real life, preferable either A. sophisticated or B. a badass. So, my ideal woman would be like, Ronda Rousey in Fast and Furious 7 if we were to computer-generate my perfect woman somehow. But with red hair. Duh.