Meg's Blog

Second Worst Movie In The World

So I think I saw the second worst movie in the world (after Benjamin Butthead, of course).

It’s kind of a toss up because the other day I was feeling a little down (my grandma has been sick and things have been a little sad in my family. After I posted about my dad last week, many of you wrote to me about your own family problems, and some of what you wrote brought tears to my eyes. And I really appreciated how many of you wrote to say that my books have helped you through your hard times. Thank you…), and I was flipping around with the remote, trying to find something on that would cheer me up, and there was this Debra Winger made-for-TV movie on the Lifetime Movie Channel about this woman who was suffering from a horrible brain disorder.

“Perfect!” I thought.

The woman had to re-learn how to walk and speak and feed herself, with the help of her loving doctor and boyfriend (it would have been more romantic if the doctor ended up being her boyfriend, but that didn’t happen), and her loving children (I missed the beginning, but I guess her husband had walked out on her. Excellent).

Debra Winger haz a sad.

And then years later when she finally regained the ability to walk and talk and eat on her own again, Debra Winger got a job coaching a high school volleyball team, and her boyfriend asked her to marry him, and everything was going great, and it was all a big triumph of the human spirit, and I was getting ready to sigh and go, “What a great movie….”

…when Debra Winger dropped her youngest daughter off at her high school. Columbine High School. On April 19th!

I’m serious.

And guess what? Fully based on a true story, of course.

And that’s what I get for not checking the ending first on IMDB.com.

But Dawn Anna wasn’t the worst movie I’ve seen this week (actually it was a totally good movie, even if the ending was a huge bummer).

We went to go see Angels and Demons, which I really wanted to see because I so wanted to watch Robert Langdon, aka Tom Hanks, jump out of that helicopter at the end, and parasail into the Tiber, using the helicopter’s windshield cover, which is fully what happens in the book.

Only guess what, fellow book lovers? That scene isn’t even in the movie.

What happened, Ron Howard? You took the best (because it is the most ludicrous, and therefore my favorite, scene) part of the book out of the movie! Millions of people have gasped aloud while sitting at airport gates during hideously long delays reading that scene, and said to themselves, “No. Freaking. Way. Could. That. Ever. Happen.”

But obviously that is what makes it so great. Kind of like girls turning out to be princesses and vampires sparkling.

Poor RPatz. Yes, my friend Em is at NYU this summer and saw him there yesterday.

And you just left that scene out? How could you? Don’t you realize scenes like that are WHY PEOPLE GO TO MOVIES MADE OF THEIR FAVORITE BOOKS???

When Robert Langdon (who should have been played by Matt Damon. I love Tom Hanks dearly, but nevermind) leaps from that helicopter using that windshield as a parachute and survives that antimatter explosion over his head, then lands in that river with only minor injuries, then staggers back to the square to see that other guy land ON THE STATUES (oh, yes. He’s supposed to land ON THE STATUES) on top of the Vatican without a scrape, it is the best part of the whole book (and the only part I remember because it made me laugh so hard and go, “Yes, Dan Brown, yes, you are a balls out genius. You deserve that $75 million private plane I read in US Weekly that you own.”)

So why isn’t that part in the movie? Was Tom Hanks afraid to jump out of a helicopter? No way! He appeared SHIRTLESS in the first scene! HE’S TOM HANKS! Tom Hank isn’t afraid of anything.

Tom Hanks on the ground instead of jumping out of helicopter.

Anyway, HOLLYWOOD IS KEEPING TOM HANKS DOWN! Be free, Tom Hanks! Be free!

And when they make the movie of Dan Brown’s next book (which I will be first in line to read, then watch), it had better follow it TO THE LETTER. Do you hear me, Ron Howard?

Jamie Foxx parties with Ron Howard. Prepare to laugh and laugh. I know I did.

Anyway, my grandmother passed away yesterday. She probably would not have enjoyed “Angels and Demons,” not because of the lack of Robert Langdon-jumping-from-the-helicopter-scene, but because she was a very Catholic lady who kept a big poster of “The Princess Diaries” movie on one wall and a big photo of my cousin meeting the Pope right next to it. Like her husband, she liked to have a cocktail (just one) and a cigarette before dinner. Her preferred cocktail was bourbon and ginger ale in a tall monogrammed highball glass, like these:

That always struck me as so Nick and Nora Charles (only my grandparents never, to my knowledge, solved a mystery). Loved it.

She also sent me, at every birthday and Christmas until I turned 16, a new Madame Alexander doll.

So she is indirectly responsible for my own little movies (but in no way did she resemble any characters in my books), which I hope is a legacy she doesn’t mind. My movies can’t, I know, compare to either Dawn Anna or Angels and Demons. But God knows Brady, the director, and I tried to make them entertaining.

Finally, here’s the latest episode of Read Our Lips. This one is about what to do if you don’t have a boyfriend by the 8th grade. We also bring up a sensitive beauty problem we need YOUR help solving.

I think Grandma (and even Dan Brown) would approve.

More later.

Much love,