The reviews for Blue Valentine make it look like one of the best movies of the year. Now that it's lost its NC-17 rating, it should get a big audience. But while the rest of America files into the theaters, I'm going to take a pass on peeking at Michelle Williams' flesh. I blame Mark Ruffalo's penis.
See I live in the boonies of upstate New York. For me it's just the place I grew up, where my husband and I returned to following September 11, where we bought a home to raise our kids. But for a certain sector of Hollywood elite, it's a getaway from the hustle and bustle. And Mark Ruffalo is one of those elite, who's taken on cult status in our area for giving up his privacy to fight the invasion of toxic gas drilling on our quiet, pristine lands. But that's another story.
I'm happy with his activism. I'm not so fond of his privates.
I only saw them the once, thank goodness, in his famous full-frontal nude scene In the Cut. And then I saw him buck nekkid and going at it with Julianne Moore in The Kids Are Alright this year. Good movies. But they've ruined the movie sex scene for me forever.
Because now I have to see Mark — who happens to be very down to earth and nice — out and about. I have to face him with his kids. I have to chat up his (very nice and very pretty) wife in the grocery store. You can accuse me of name dropping, but I have no airs to put on here. I'm not cooking up a friendship. Our kids have played together a few times only because two 5-year-olds have no awareness that one's father is about be The Incredible Hulk and the other's mother is a lowly Internet blogger. It's just a really small town.
He's been on Rachel Maddow talking about us, so I'm not even divulging any big secrets of where Hollywood's biggest names hide out. Which is more than I can say for Mark. He's a talented actor, and one who is not afraid to take his clothes off. Kudos to him for his bravery. But Mark Ruffalo took the movie sex scene from fantasy to "a little too close to reality, thank you very much buddy."
Let me lay it all out there (he did). When it comes to this one thing, I am a prude … albeit one with a dirty enough mind to close her eyes and see a man's penis when he's standing not 5 feet from her at the town youth center. I don't want to think of my neighbors without their clothes on. Oh, God, no, not my neighbors. And all the other dads at kindergarten can keep their clothes on when I'm around. Really, all of them (who knew it was possible to have an entire class without one single hot dad?).
Sex scenes cease to be sexy when they're real people with spouses and kids and a five o'clock shadow that needs to be addressed before they go food shopping.
So sadly I won't be watching Blue Valentine. I'm too busy thinking that Michelle Williams is the mother of a 5-year-old like mine and Ryan Gosling is someone's neighbor. Damn famous neighbors and their famous penises!
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