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Movie – Taxi

November 18, 2005

Subtitle: Overloading the Suspension of Disbelief

Okay, granted: you watch a movie and it generally requires a bit of suspension of disbelief. This “suspension of disbelief” simply means there are usually some elements of the movie that, for you to enjoy it, you are required to suspend the “no way that’s believable” factor. I had a coworker back in ye old college days who just couldn’t do it. For example, he wouldn’t even go see the Superman movie (1978, Christopher Reeve) because “it’s stupid – people can’t fly.” Barring the question of whether Superman: The Movie was any good or not, it’d be difficult to enjoy if you were unwilling to accept, for the duration of the movie, that this guy could fly. But Tony wasn’t willing to do so, so didn’t bother to check the movie out – he had no “suspension of disbelief” ability, red sun planet or no red sun planet.

Now, even if you rule out superheros, SF movies, and blonde marketing majors going to Harvard law school, most movies require a touch of disbelief suspension; for example, the Red Sox being three games down, then winning four in a row to beat the Yankees and go on to win the World Series the exact year the couple in Fever Pitch are getting together? Come’on. But, for the movie, you make the effort to believe it might be possible.

Which brings us to Taxi. I watched the previews, and while Queen Latifah rates slightly below Al Gore in the “folks I want to see in a movie” category, I thought it might be somewhat funny. We sit back and start the movie, we being myself, SWMBO*, and Number One Son. The movie content during the opening credit routine is of a bicycle messenger doing a number of stunts (off an overpass and onto a moving eighteen wheeler, bouncing the bike onto the side of a van for a fast direction change, etc.) that require the suspension of disbelief. First, no way. Second, no way. Third, you’d be arrested. But, hey, it’s a movie, I’ll make the effort. Then the bike messenger slides to a stop in front of a small, cheering throng of folks, pops off the helmet, and it’s Queen Latifah. I don’t know if you know who Queen Latifah is, and my knowledge is skimpy (singer, I think), but I’ve seen her for one, and I’m looking at her for another, and I just can’t wrap my mind around this chunky woman having just done the bike messenger impossible stunt routine. Yeah, round is a shape and one I resemble, but speaking for us folks in the shape of round, we can’t ride bikes off of overpasses onto trucks.

Long and short, we give it another ten or so minutes to determine if she came from a planet with a red sun (apparently not), or if there’s any other reason to continue watching, decide there isn’t, and give up on this dog of a movie. Rated it one star (can’t give zero) which, in Netflix rating, means: Hated it.

*SWMBO – She Who Must Be Obeyed, a.k.a., the wife.

From → Ramblings

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