- Culture
- 31 Aug 05
Throughout his career, Freud was particularly intrigued to learn what women wanted. If only he could have lived to see The Sisterhood Of The Travelling Pants.
Throughout his career, Freud was particularly intrigued to learn what women wanted. If only he could have lived to see The Sisterhood Of The Travelling Pants. Yes, we really really want another drippy teen drama, where four girlfriends blossom over the course of one wonderful summer. And we’d think it was just peachy if there was some flakey chick-friendly plot device, like say, a giant conspiracy involving homeopathic remedies or horoscopes. But wait, a magic pair of jeans that fits all sizes from zero to two and initiates emotional journeys? Why that’s even better. Just think how many regurgitated Party Of Five episodes we can wring out of that.
Sure enough, The Sisterhood (as if) hits all the perceived girly buttons – the blonde Amazonian over-achiever who aggressively pursues a college-boy soccer coach when all she truly wants (pizza and pyjama parties) is right there in her very own backyard; the eternally sighing small-town gothlet who slowly melts for a ringleted, terminally ill (cough, splutter, sob, etc) Helen Burns-styled moppet; the buttoned-up prissy chick who lets down her hair with a Greek meat puppet (he’s minted, obviously) and of course, the token smart ethnic girl wounded by her tactless father’s wedding plans. Men.
In the great traditions of Tennessee Williams and Sweet Valley High, all sexual fumbling is strictly kept off-screen and males are relegated to pouting dreamboat status (excluding, of course, the one who’s directing – harrumph). After all, it doesn’t do to gaze at them too long; you start to picture what they look like scratching themselves with their keys.
Of course the really disturbing thing about all this is when compared to similarly geared, male-directed ideas of Oprah-fied bonding exercises (The Divine Secrets Of The Ya-Ya Sisterhood, Now And Then), The Pants crackles with wit and mires with depth. I don’t know how many times I have to say it. Ladies, we get the films we deserve until we vote with our sequined purses.
Still, definitely recommended for those who’ve been waiting to exhale since Waiting To Exhale.