I don't make catty remarks about your newest waif of an infatuation because I'm jealous. I do it because she sucks.
What a relief that someone's put a name to that obnoxious, vapid female trope of film and (worse) reality: Finally the adorable smiling girl dancing barefoot in the rain is being publicly called out for what she really is -- a sham, not a muse.
One unfortunate side effect of this cultural revelation should be the inevitable influx of faux-manic pixie dream girls who miss the point and stupidly idolize the MPDG. ("Natalie Portman presents her new signature clothing line, Change Your Life! Scarves, ballet flats, and sundresses: Now you, too, can be a manic pixie dream girl!")
The other unfortunate side-effect? MPDG nemeses -- "sharp, mean, opinionated, decidedly lacking in mystery" -- i.e., the Jezebels of the world, will no longer politely hide our seething resentment and guiltily apologize for an occasional bitter outburst. Rather, our dislike now justified, we are doomed to complete the transformation to 100% Hillary and never realize that, although the rational hetero man will eventually see his pixie for what she really is and settle down with a real woman, we could learn a little something from MPDGs about laying down the ironic defenses, kicking off the power pumps, and extending some kindness. As a self-proclaimed wandering soulster commented on Sadie's blog (above), "It's good to have someone listen to your crap for that long."
Check it out:
Sadie's "Amazing" Girl (MPDGs were, tragically, muses for a number of my favorite male artists. You'd think Shakespeare would at least know better... I never understood what Hamlet saw in Ophelia.)
The A.V. Club's inventory of Manic Pixie Dream Girls
Cameron Crowe, the Joe Simpson of MPDGs
that most pernicious irksome moppet ("That song will change your life." Actually, Zach Braff, it's just the effing Shins.)
the latest incarnation of MPDG
NEXT: Now that we've successfully corralled Kirsten Dunst and Natalie Portman, let's get to work on typing the eerily familiar Aaron Rose, i.e., the manipulative asshole in sensitive clothing.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
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3 comments:
Aww, I love the Black Table. So sad when it shut down.
Also, I've wanted to tie in MPDG with Kierkegaard's Narrative in film (http://kitoba.com/pedia/Kierkegaards+Narrative.html) for a while, but I'm too lazy. Can you just do it for me?
Looking forward to your GG recap as always!
The Whimpster was also the subject of an article in Bust Magazine a few years back. I remember reading it during the beginning of freshman year and feeling like every inexplicable interaction I'd ever had with a boy I liked was suddenly explained. Ahh, enlightenment. You hurt like a bitch, but at least you're honest.
Oh my, these terms are all new to me, AND I LOVE THEM. Have definitely dated a Wimpster or two (or three)....
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