The Hunger Games is out. I’ll wait for you to stop screaming with excitement. Ready? Oh, I think that girl over there just fainted. Someone get her water. You okay? Good. I’ll say it again. The Hunger Games is out in theaters! The anticipation is over! And I am reminded, once again, that I am very much not a teenage girl. Of course, I am reminded of this daily, like when I don’t wish Justin Bieber would magically ask me to prom or when I don’t have to buy my first bra.
In recent years though, pop culture, and specifically film, has been reminding me of this fact more often. It all started with Twilight, which created a new kind of chick-flick. Chick-flicks have been entertaining women and annoying men for centuries. I believe it was Shakespeare who once wrote, “My mind a haze, I think my thoughts a mess/ I hate the film I saw, the twenty-seventh dress.” I think that’s from Hamlet.
But, movies like Twilight and The Hunger Games are a different breed. At first glance, they seem kind of awesome. Vampires, werewolves, death, hunger, games? Guys love all those things. So, when we’re asked by a lady friend, “Will you see this movie with me? Please? It would mean so much to me,” we say, “Of course,” in a heartbeat. Then, we see the movie and it turns out, it’s a chick-flick in disguise. A lady-movie in a mask. We’ve been tricked, and we feel stupid.
To make it worse, we have no way of gaining retribution through the power of cinema. There are no guy movies in disguise. I’ve never gone to a movie that I thought was going to be the tale of two star-crossed lovers and seen everybody blown to smithereens. But I’d love to. It would be a great way to get back at movies that I think are going to be great, but instead make me listen to Robert Pattinson for two hours.
That’s why I propose this: men should boycott The Hunger Games until Hollywood produces a trilogy of action movies disguised as mushy love stories. We should ignore the cat calls of adolescent girls and the invitations of our slightly older girlfriends until this happens.
I can imagine the trailer now. A beautiful man holds hands with an even more beautiful woman while walking on a gorgeous beach under the auburn hue of sunset. They kiss and then hold each other as a wave breaks upon the beach. But then, when you go to see the movie it turns out to be nothing but two hours of grotesque violence. Limbs being blown from torsos. Eyeballs popping out like kernels in a popcorn machine. You know, guy stuff. Think The Notebook for the trailer and Saw for the movie.
The Hunger Games is just another example of girls making guys see movies they don’t want to see, and that is wrong. After all, guys never make girls sit through movies they could never possibly like. It never happens. So, I’ll wait for the Hollywood to respond to my request for a movie with violence dressed up as a love story. It could take a while. They haven’t made anything like that in, I don’t know, something like a week.