Remember when the Ravens beat the Steelers? Remember when Clay and I bet on that game? Remember when I sent Clay Skittles Fruity Pebble treats even though Clay lost the bet cause I’m nice like that?
Remember when Clay lost the bet so he had to watch Mamma Mia and write a Movies Teach Us post for me?
You don’t? You don’t remember because that day is TODAY.
Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you what Clay learned from Mamma Mia.
I’m about to watch the worst movie of all time. There’s a trailer for a Beethoven the dog movie, and I’m actually sad that I’m not watching it instead.
This is my "I'm not happy about this" look.
Commercial for Mamma Mia the Broadway show says that 32 million have already seen it. I guess that’s 32 million people who will never want to buy anything I write.
Well, there’s the title screen. Guess I’ll have to hit play now. Just realized this is the first time in 13 years that I’ve watched all the trailers and commercials on a DVD. Guess I’m in denial.
It’s kind of like when I was a kid and had to take cough medicine.
I’m trying to think of all the movies Meryl Streep has been in that I’ve liked. So far I’ve come up with zero. I’ll have to check IMDB to see what I’m forgetting.
I remember Remington Steele* a little from when I was a kid. I wish this was that.
Okay, time to start the
disaster show. Here’s what I learned from Mamma Mia!
And we have a Firth sighting. Calm down, Ironic Mom.
So I should point out to all the people that tried to convince me this movie was good because it’s all Abba songs. That didn’t help. Like not even in the slightest bit.
And we’re into the first musical number. It’s like the anti-Grease, like if I slipped into a parallel dimension where everything went wrong, Mamma Mia! would’ve been made instead of Grease.
Okay, I just picked up on the plot. Mom used to sleep with so many people that daughter doesn’t know which one’s her dad. Looks like it could be James Bond, King George, or Bootstrap Bill.
So the bride’s giddy with excitement for her fiancé’s bachelor party. Yeah, that happens.
Meryl Streep’s the only female who doesn’t look weird when she runs in this movie.
Three men, one dinghy. Less complicated than it sounds. They’ll get there eventually.
There’s an outside chance that Colin Firth can make me laugh at some point during this film.
Oh, hey they’re singing “Dancing Queen,” and I actually know this song! Yeah, that doesn’t make it any more bearable.
Okay, now it’s a parade of dancing women. And I don’t mean that in the way that could be exciting. At all. If I had to guess I’d say this number was choreographed by either Elton John or Satan.
Okay, I’m gonna give props to Streep for a wicked cannonball off the pier there.
You might think that Pierce Brosnan’s singing voice isn’t as bad as people say. You would be wrong.
Now it’s a dancing line of half-naked men on the pier. I was wrong before; this is definitely the work of Elton John.
Just checked IMDB to see which good Meryl Streep movies I was forgetting. Turns out I completely forgot about none. She’s literally never been in a good movie.
Still trying to figure out who the demographic was for this movie. Not sure yet but I bet it had something to do with potential alternatives to water boarding terrorists.
I may or may not have taken a 10-hour break from this atrocity movie.
And we have dancing men in masks. Oh good.
There’s a metaphor in here about the fact that this girl wants a father and yet three different men want to “give her away.”
Okay, chick blowout. Drama builds. Sort of.
Brosnan is singing again. Blarg. I don’t know what’s more painful, watching him sing or the ladies picking a fight with each other.
This Christine Baranski dance number is really just freaking me out. It can’t possibly get any worse than this. Can it?
I needed something to distract me from yet another song, so I checked out Box Office Mojo to see how much money this movie actually made. Shocking. $144 million in America, over $600 million worldwide. I just threw up in my brain a little.
FINALLY, the wedding is starting. I hope there’s lots of sappy crying moments. I was literally in a big fat Greek wedding once. Well, my friend’s weren’t fat. I was the best man. We didn’t sing at all.
They’re singing again already! Come on. Musicals should be like sex: You need at least ten minutes in between performances.**
So THAT’s the secret of the Firth. Oooooohhhhhh…
Okay, ensemble festivity dancing in water main break. This has all the makings of a closing number. Please Lord, let this be the closing number.
And there goes Pierce Brosnan’s shirt. Because why not?***
CREDITS! So is this the part where everyone in the theater jumps up and starts singing and dancing?
And they just went into another number. My testosterone levels are in real jeopardy here. I’m gonna go eat a raw steak and punch the first man I see today.
Grease is still the word. And I’m never betting again.
Thanks, Clay, for the guest post! It was a pleasure betting with you. When do the Ravens and Steelers play again?
*Remington Steele? I’ve never even heard of that. How old are you, Clay?
**Ten minutes between songs and sex? That must be a guy thing….
***::shudder:: And not the good kind of shudder.