Okay, I hate that phrase, “made of win,” but I had to say it anyway, because it’s what came to mind when I saw the movie. Just Win.
Bridesmaids is receiving accolades from across the web for the leveling of the playing field for chick humor to stand stinkily alongside dude humor. A lot of the kudos come in the form of “Girls! They can be gross too!”
I’ve long since gotten over the stretching of my ocular muscles that comes with rolling my eyes so hard at anything Hollywood has to say about women. Three years ago, I would have been staring at my sinuses after reading most of the commentary on Bridesmaids.
Here’s a secret that half the population seems to be unaware of: Girls are fucking filthy. I’ve never been in a group of women (a group of women that have orgasms regularly, at least) that are shy about saying the most filthy, profane things about their bodies, sex lives, and bowel movements.
My father, who was a nurse for many years and thus was thus surrounded by women, only to marry and have two daughters, thus allowing him to “walk in both worlds” will corroborate this. Women, when they believe themselves to be in safe territory, will share the details of every secretion, bodily function, or sexual encounter with detailed aplomb.
Why? Because women’s bodies are fucking hilarious. Our menstrual blood is gloopy and jiggly, our bodies betray us constantly with cramps or bloating or sore tits, and we know about things like “cervical mucus” even if we’ve never bore children. Plus, straight women put up with antics demonstrated by the Jon Hamm character enough to make brunches with girlfriends that much more interesting. It’s one big illustrated version of Wetlands up in there.
The hope that Bridesmaids will save women-driven comedy may be inflated, but there’s no doubt that the gross-out hilarity of “dude humor” isn’t just for dudes.