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It is a truth universally acknowledged that I can’t stand Geoffrey Rush or Gerard Depardieu. This can sometimes make historical costume movie watching difficult, as there seem to be years where no movie can be made without them. The problem is I Just Can’t Stand Them, so any of my reviews of anything that involves them usually just consists of me can’t-even-ing, which I realize isn’t very nuanced. So Trystan is making me write this post in an attempt to articulate why they annoy me, and which will probably annoy you, because really, I have no basis for disliking them other than a general “UGH” reaction.
But in celebration of Man Ick Monday (our Snark Week variation on Man Candy Monday), and because Trystan is a big meanie and is making me, I shall attempt to explain why I can’t stand Geoffrey Rush and Gerard Depardieu. This post will probably suck, because it’s just a visceral reaction that is incredibly hard to explain, so bear with and move along if you just don’t get me.
The Scenery Chewing
Okay, so Depardieu has had his moments (mostly, Cyrano de Bergerac, 1990) where he has harnessed his skills for good and not evil. But most of the time, I feel like both Rush and Depardieu are just Overacting Up the Wazoo. Have either of them heard of the term “nuanced performance”? Because it seems like they missed that class at acting school and went straight to Make It Super Obvious So the Audience Doesn’t Miss It!!
Probably more Depardieu than Rush, but both of them just feel like the personification of an unattractive, probably short and strangely bumpy, shlong. We are generally pro-penis here at Frock Flicks, so I’m not talking about the actual item itself. It’s just, and I’m sorry if this wounds the worldview of any men reading this, but here’s the deal: there are guys who are penis-y, and not in a good way. Usually you work with them (because who would voluntarily spend any time with these fuckers). They’re the personification of white male privilege, in that they have no idea that their smug sense of self-satisfaction is actually totally misplaced and irritates the fuck out of everyone around them. The fact that you happened to be born with a penis does not make your every thought genius, nor does it make you smarter or more worthy of airtime than me. Sorry, tangent!
So, yeah. I feel Depardieu in particular has probably never examined his own sense of smug superiority in the random fact that he was born with a particular set of genitalia. (Note: I have no basis for this judgement. Maybe they’re both committed feminists who spend their time volunteering at women’s shelters.)
Yeah, and that brings me to my other point here — FILMMAKERS, PLEASE STOP CASTING THESE TWO AS SEXUAL PEOPLE. I’m sorry, but I hate the fucking trope of “old ugly guy still manages to fascinate and intrigue young hot woman simply because he has a penis.” IT’S BEEN DONE, IT’S STUPID, AND I HATE IT WITH THE FIRE OF MANY SUNS.
But really, I may never recover from my one viewing of Quills. Kate Winslet, I thought! 18th century, I thought! Oh dear god. She’s the random employee at a late 18th-century prison (who apparently can’t afford an actual dress or jacket and is wandering around in her corset through the whole movie — the literal equivalent of you or I wandering around in our bra), he’s the Marquis de Sade. Who, yes, is supposed to be old and lascivious and slightly crazy. But christ on a crouton. Watching Rush go all madman-in-the-attic and, in particular, sleaze it up on poor Kate Winslet just gave me ALL the dry heaves.
Honestly, the Shnozzles
I can get very excited about a big, weird nose on a guy (see Adrien Brody: YES, PLEASE). But there’s something about the bulbousness of Rush and Depardieu’s noses, which always seem to be looming at the camera and therefore at me, that just give me all the heebie jeebies.
Alright, give me all the shit for irrationally disliking your two favorite actors EVAH. I welcome the shit-show that will be the comments section.