“Really, it’s that good?” I asked him.
“Oh, it’s amazing—just the themes which are so relevant to right now and you don’t even realize, you know?”
I could have just nodded and kept it a very simple and fake work conversation, but this guy is really low on the corporate totem pole, so I figured what harm would it be to just be real for two seconds.
“It’s just, ya know,” I said, “I’m sure it’s a masterpiece and everything, but I just can’t help but have this gut feeling that it’ll be really long, really slow, with all this dry historical shit and nothing really happens the whole time.”
“Oh no,” he assured me, “no not at all—that was my fear, too. For one thing, it’s only the last six months of his life so you’re not like, sitting there watching him in the log cabin and going to law school and shit.”
There ya go—maybe i did like this goyishe pleb. He was soothing my fears! Allaying my concerns. No log cabin, huh? No law school and unlikely yet meteoric rise to the top of the political scene and ultimate, drawn-out triumph of his presidential victory? All right, what the fuck Spielberg, you’re on.
I went to see Lincoln.
I realized I was fucked even before the movie started—after the 7th preview, just as the green APPROVED FOR ALL AUDIENCES screen for the 8th preview appeared, some genius old Jew whined to the screen and the woman that had dragged him to the movie:
“Ah, da—anotha PREVIEW?? C’mon I got three hours a LINCOLN after this!”
But Ben, I see where you’re going…but wasn’t Daniel Day-Lewis amazing? Well I mean, yeah: he BECOMES Lincoln. He IS Lincoln. I couldn’t do it; it’s impressive…but who cares? Do you really want to see someone become Lincoln, especially for three hours? Personally, I’d rather enjoy myself somehow, say via drama or comedy or drugs or sex or excitement.
Lincoln is VERY fucking slow—it’s written by a Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright who writes long slow speeches for Lincoln to recite. LINCOLN.
My favorite part of the movie was this one scene where they count every vote in the House of Representatives. After the fourth close-up “nay” and “yay,” the genius old Jew from the audience again yelled at his wife exactly what I was thinking:
“Ah, da—come on, dey gotta do every VOTE?!”
He was totally right. They did every vote—you know, like C-SPAN.
Now I think the guy who told me to see Lincoln is a fucking asshole jabroni, but not as big of an asshole as me, for selling myself out and ignoring my gut. I fucking KNEW it was going to be long and boring, how could it not be? I’m such an idiot.
In summary, if you’re taking an acting class or a class on Lincoln, go see Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln. It will probably be very useful to you because the thing is a masterpiece.
If you want to be entertained, go see Argo, which is as enjoyable as the most entertaining movie of all time. Literally if you see Argo and don’t like it tweet at me and I will PayPal you your money back.