Now, listen. I’m not going to sit here for a very long time explaining to you why I was watching the new Ashton Kutcher movie yesterday. It was called Killers, and it also had Romantic Comedy Goddess Katherine Heigl in it, which ought to help you understand.
Here’s what happened. My wife was looking for something to watch, and the preview for Killers features Ashton Kutcher shirtless and speaking French. She said, “I’m watching this (bleep) mother(bleep)er and there isn’t (bleep) you can do about it so you might as well sit your (bleep) down and watch it with me. (Bleep).”
And I said, “Okay.”
That’s because I like romantic comedies now. Did you know that there are always several blindingly attractive people of both sexes in them?
27 Dressses, for instance had Katherine Heigl and Malin Akerman in it, and what they did was put on a bunch of spectacular outfits and sort of smiled and danced to pop songs and talked a lot – five stars.
Katherine Heigl is one of those comically hot women whom they keep trying to cast as Plain Jane. Oh, the poor thing, slouching through life in that drab mortal shell. In the movies, she just can’t seem to turn any heads, sort of fades into the background.
Sigh. If only she could meet a man who could see past her slightly dialed-down hotness, and appreciate all that searing, eye-popping hotness on the inside. Maybe a REALLY hot man who for some reason has no plans that night whatsoever, and is tired of all those shallow supermodels who are always throwing themselves at him.
So anyway, the other cool thing about romantic comedies is that they are not disturbing. I do not like to be disturbed. This recent thing where they try to be as skull-drillingly lunatic disturbing as possible and then we all kind of watch it to prove we can be tough in the face of the truly disturbing, that’s not for me.
Scary movies often have no plots at all anymore, just monstrously ugly men raping and torturing and poking and burning. Sure it’s scary. If I found myself writing even the synopsis for the average modern horror movie, I would be too frightened to go to the bathroom without my cat.
So I says to myself, I says, embrace your inner sissy, Tom. And that’s what I do.
Romantic comedies are perfect for that. It doesn’t matter what happens and it doesn’t matter if it makes sense – everything will be fine at the end. No hot people were harmed in the making of this film, and it’s been approved for sissified audiences and their leering wives everywhere.
Here’s what I noticed – Ashton Kutcher is definitely hot.
I mean, I wasn’t having any impure thoughts about him, I was just thinking, I’ll bet that’s pretty cool, walking around like that. I don’t think I would ever wear anything except my underpants, if that’s what I looked like.
And then the weird thing was, Tom Selleck is in the movie, too – he plays Heigl’s dad – and I started thinking about male hotness, and how it’s changed in thirty years.
See, thirty years ago, Tom Selleck was People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive. And yes, I’d have to say, rocking around in 1980 as Tom Selleck – I’ll bet that was a pretty cool way to be as well.
Totally different looks though. Ashton Kutcher looks like he was cloned and constructed in a Los Angeles salon. Below the neck, he is utterly hairless, his chest plucked and waxed and possibly Botoxed a little bit. I mean, he actually looked so good he didn’t seem real, like a cool, shimmering lie.
I said to my wife, I’ll bet that guy fakes his orgasms.
“Spaghetti,” she replied, because she wasn’t listening to me, no sir.
In short, Ashton Kutcher is like most modern “hot” women – Angelina Jolie comes to mind. The guy looks like he is computer-generated.
Tom Selleck, by contrast, in his Magnum, P.I. prime, was one rugged, hairy dude. A lot of what was hot about him, I suspect, was his Ferrari and his gun – I mean, they used to show that a lot, Magnum fishtailing around in the car, Magnum slapping a clip in a gun.
But Kutcher’s character in Killers has those qualities. It’s Magnum’s physical appearance which is so strikingly different.
A big moustache, broad shoulders, and chest hair so thick you could have probably knocked out some cornrows in it, if you tried.
Whatever was sexy about that, I have to wonder – what changed?
Aside from a seventy-five percent reduction in hairstyle size, sexiness in women hasn’t really changed that much. I’m trying to think of the big female sex symbols from the eighties – Cindy Crawford, Heather Locklear, Christie Brinkley. Daisy Duke – we just haven’t been that complicated.
In fact if anything, it seems that the unrealistic male expectations of the eighties might have spread to women as they shook off the gender oppression and all that.
Tom Selleck looked like a regular guy in great shape – it’s anybody’s guess why women dug the moustaches back then. But he wasn’t necessarily out of reach – a guy could work out and really look like that. Meanwhile, it was pretty hard for women to look like Cindy Crawford or Daisy Duke.
Ashton Kutcher in Killers looks more like Cindy Crawford than Magnum. He looks like you could work out all you want, but without surgery and an industrial size roll of whatever that waxing tape is, you’re going to look like an ape standing next to him.
When I was in school, I was encouraged by a lot of enlightened folks to really think about the damaging effects that Barbie Dolls and Cindy Crawford had on young, insecure girls and their various normal, non-Daisy Duke body types.
With Ashton Kutcher walking around looking like a couple of moony teenaged girls created him with a computer (watch for the upcoming, gender-swapped Hollywood remake of Weird Science), what am I supposed to tell my son about his club foot?
No I’m just kidding. Three teenage daughters here. Watching the rising Boyfriend Storm on the horizon, it does nothing but make me smile, thinking of all these little dudes looking in their bedroom mirrors, frowning with their guts sucked in, trying to speak French.
Enjoy the chest-waxin’ fellas. I’ll see you on the front porch.