I don’t know how I feel about The King and I, if I’m being honest with you. I don’t even know who you are, if I’m being honest with you. Is there anybody out there?
Anyway, instead of ringing in the New Year like cool people, Steve and I rang in the New Year watching the incredibly long cinematic suppository known as The King and I. But I don’t give it enough credit, because I actually do like it okay. It’s got just the right amount of racism for my taste, and I love more than anything spontaneous musical numbers and dramatic solo dancing kings.
Besides, it reminds me of this song from The Drowsy Chaperone (sorry about the less-than-top-quality video, but it’s all I could find):
In case you were born yesterday, The King and I is a musical about the King of Siam and the relationship that develops between him and Anna Leonowens, the British schoolteacher sent to teach the King’s children and his wives about western science and shiz. Which she does. And the King’s shenanigans and the schoolteacher’s propriety often get entangled, resulting in funny-ish things happening.
But it is really long.
So basically, I have mixed feelings about this movie. I love it because I love musicals, and pretty much most ridiculous movies from the 50s, another particular favorite also starring Deborah Kerr, An Affair to Remember. Vertigo, Gigi, Singin’ in the Rain… the 50s was a good decade for film. But I am losing track of things.
The acting is awful, and the visual effects are awful, and I have never been to Thailand or anything, but it seems kind of racist to me. Looking at it objectively, it really is an awful movie by today’s standards. Which is precisely why I love it so much.
Basically, if you have very little else to do with your life, and feel the need to watch a movie that would be fun to watch in silence and make up your own words to… I would suggest The King and I. Not saying that’s what we did, but just that I can imagine.
So next Friday night, prepare the popcorn, come prepared with some conversation topics to carry you through not only the overture and opening credits (which by themselves make up an hour of the movie), but also the intermission and the Siamese interpretation of Stowe’s classic novel, Uncle Tom’s Cabin (the interpretation which coincidentally provides the topic for today’s review), and ad lib away. You will not regret it.
I love this movie. Every bit of it. It makes Ross awkward because he feels like every time he laughs he is putting a nail in his racist coffin.