Not for anything serious, they’re just a bit annoyed about last weeks blog.
“You didn’t really relate Friends™ to yourself.”
Well I’m sorry, but it can’t all be about me…
The problem I’m having is there really is very little in this two-parter that matches up with my own life. With its tales of movie stars, dating, and pet monkeys.
(Out of those three I’m definitely most annoyed about the lack of monkey in my life.)
Strangely the thing that most resonated with me, during this glorified Superbowl advert, is Marcel standing up Ross because of work. I'm not saying my partner is Marcel the Monkey but, due to work commitments, we haven’t had as much time for each other lately either. And for nothing as glamorous as movie stardom!
That monkey doesn’t know how lucky he is...
“The One Where I Get Naked (Physically, If Not Emotionally)”
If last time was a tasty starter of Brooke Shields, the cheesy aperitif of Dan Castellaneta, and the fish course of Chris Isaak, then this episode is the main course. We’re served up the meaty appearance of Jean-Claude Van Damme, and the gorgeous side-salad of Julia Roberts.
Not to kick a man when he’s down, but I can see why Matthew Perry turned to alcoholism after making out with Julia Roberts. It’s pretty much all down from that point.
I find it a bit weird that an Oscar nominated actress is not playing herself but Van Damme is. I wonder if we can put this down to sexism? Or perhaps they thought casting Van Damme as anything other than himself might have stretched his acting abilities a bit too much.
Looking back I suspect the success of this two-parter is responsible for a lot of good natured sitcom cameos. The sort that became a staple of shows such as The Big Bang Theory™, with huge stars gamely sending themselves up. Though it no-where near reaches the savagery of later classic cameos, like those in Extras™.
But Julia Roberts shines in her role as a vengeful school-mate of Chandlers. I don’t think any woman-fancier could resist her invocation to “meet me in the bathroom”. Once they’d overcome the riddle of which one she meant…
Perhaps this restaurant was way ahead of its time and had unisex bathrooms?
Either way, I’m not sure I’d want to join her going barefoot in there. What a way to ruin the mood. It doesn’t put Chandler off, and he pays for it with his walk of shame through the restaurant. An experience I have, thankfully, never shared.
He’s not the only one having clothing difficulty, as Rachel and Monica’s spat over Van Dammes affection leads to the destruction of Rachel’s sweater and Monica’s handbag. I’m sure there’s a wonderful metaphor for mutually assured nuclear destruction in here somewhere…
Maybe it’s because I have a less extensive wardrobes than the Friends™ seem to, or I’m just much more materialistic, but destruction of clothing is a bit of a red-line for me. I’d probably back down before things get to the point they do for Rachel and Monica. But anyone threatening one of my sweaters would lose a lot of cred with me.
It’s one of the ways I’m strangely old fashioned. You don’t screw around with another person’s possessions! I pretend it’s all part of my enlightened stance on only having what I need (I rarely buy new clothes), and not wanting things to go to waste. Which makes my clothing very important to me. But there’s probably a hefty chunk of masculine Neanderthal protectiveness in there as well.
“That’s my stick. Hands off!”
Real Live Sitcom Moment:
As per my partner’s wish, our latest RLSM relates directly to Chandler’s escapades. (Although I’ve had to dig deep in my memory for it.)
Many moons ago I went on a fantastic holiday to France with a host of Real Live Friends. Joey Number 1, Rachel Number 1, David the Science Guy, Monica Number 2 and Me Number 2. (Is everyone keeping up?)
One night we drunkenly decided to cross-off skinny dipping from our collective bucket list. All keeping our dignity on the way to and from the pool, thanks to some tactical towel use.
All except me that is. Thanks to an unfortunate towel slip, at the top of the pool steps, my naked body was left glimmering in the moon light - like a pale ghost haunting the vision of all who see it.
I was drunk enough to not be particularly bothered by this. But the same can’t be said for Me Number 2 who happened to be standing at the bottom of the steps. At eye height with my newly liberated privates.