Romance Movies: An excuse for Nudity

Love In a Time of Cholera Movie Review:

In Antigua, Guatemala there is a restaurant that acts as a movie theater almost every night of the week. Going to the movies is a luxury for me that I don’t get to enjoy very often due to traveling circumstances. I do not really care what the movie is about, but just the action of watching a larger than life production on a huge screen is fascinating for me.

Sunday night Wade and I went on a date to the movie theater. It is actually set up like an old time dinner theater, with chair all set around tables. The food and drinks are expensive, but the movie is free. Wade and I ordered the cheapest beverages on the menu and sat back to watch the film.

That night they played the film “Love in a Time of Cholera.” The movie was set in colonial Columbia. It was actually interesting to see the scenery, because the architecture, landscape and all was so similar to that of Antigua.

The plot, however, was not the most appealing to me. It was a love story. A love triangle, if you will, and everyone was a hot-blooded Latin. A man made an undying vow to love his first crush for his whole life, and save his virginity for her. The girl’s father was none too keen on the idea, and moved the daughter all the way to the far reaches of the Columbian jungle. Years apart and the boy’s love stayed true, but somewhere along the lines the girl lost interest, or so it seems. She went about her life, and married a horrible, abusive, cheating doctor.

The boy cried his eyes out his entire life. His mother, a very smart woman, sent him away to work and take his mind off of his beloved Fermina. While in transit some weird thing occurred where a horny woman grabbed him, pulled him into a closet, and raped him. (I think this may be every man’s dream, but I do not think things like this really happen.) The boy liked it very much, and then proceeded to sleep with every woman he could possibly get his hands on, er, his pecker into. By the end of the film he was going on 700 partners. It is a wonder his junk did not rot off, but the whole movie was far-fetched anyway.

So the woman’s husband finally dies and the boy (who is now an old man who still screws everything, and is currently working on a very attractive American with large bare breats) runs to the now widowed woman. They are all old and crusty and disgusting, but they get to together and make love and it is a beautiful, happy ending. And they really don’t live happily ever after because they are too old, so they just die happy together.

This really was a chick-flick movie. It was so heart-felt that even I could hardly bear it. The men in the theater, though, were on the edge of their seats the entire film. The movie showed just about as many boobs as a porno film. Around every scene there were naked women, exposing their breasts and lifting up their petticoats. Only once did we see the side view of a man’s butt, but never anything exciting for the women in the audience to feast her eyes upon.

I think the romance film is purposely directed in this manner. Boyfriends all over the world are dragged to the movie theater to watch boring romance movies because their girlfriends like to see this awful rot of a plot. I think that the wise director knows to put a plethora of boob scenes to appease the opposite sex. If not I think the boyfriends would become so incredibly bored that no one would ever go see such a mind-numbing film.