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SKINNY BITCH BE TRIPPIN’!

If the movies have taught me anything about race relations, it’s #1: don’t ever touch a black man’s radio and, #2, don’t mess with a sista’s man, because you will get cut, bitch.

And while my male black friends have always allowed me to mess with their car radios, letting me listen to the Beach Boys as we try to find the Chinese consulate’s kidnapped daughter,  the black girls I have dated have always gone out of their way to prove maxim number two. It’s flattering as all get out, but, over time, it can be a bit of a hindrance in the public relations department, especially when you are a man of the people, such as I. The break-ups never went much better and I woke up more than once with a brick through my passenger-side window. But, what can I say…Ladies Love Cool L.

The reason why I bring it up is because of the movie Obsessed, which wants to be a Fatal Attraction-type thriller, but, in reality, it is more a Tyra Banksy tirade against, to use Beyonce’s words, all the “skinny bitches”, which, if done with more style and flair, I could have easily have gotten behind, in more ways than one. The problem is that the cast is horrifically pallid, the direction terrifyingly lackluster and the script abominably idiotic. Obsessed is the epitome of a quick-buck, factory-line thriller, capitalizing on a huge singer’s latest album release. But, it was a minor hit at the box office, so maybe that is what the people want? Is it what you want?

The irritatingly stern Idris Elba is the greatest husband ever in the history of cinematic matrimony. Not only is he married to Beyonce who is horny ALL THE TIME, even after squeezing out a kid, but he has desk-loads of office trim slathered before him at all times. It reaches a breaking point when skinny bitch Ali Larter shows up, seducing him at every turn, from rubbing against his junk at a Christmas party to throwing open a trenchcoat to reveal ineffectual lingerie in his parked car. He shuns her, like he should, and Larter goes nuts, sneaking into his house, licking his furniture, wearing his football jersey and sticking his baby in a car-seat. While this is a far as her “threatening behavior” really goes, Beyonce throws her through the Goddamned roof of the house, with obvious back-breaking results.

Now, I know that, while reading this lively synopsis that you might be thinking that Obsessed, while not a good movie, will be an entertainingly bad one. No, not really. It’s utterly pointless, completely unnecessary and extremely mundane. This is a movie that, like I said before, was made purely to give Beyonce a number one movie to go along with her latest number one album. And, in theory, there really is nothing wrong with that from a pop cultural standpoint. But, as someone who doesn’t listen to her music, it becomes a sheer chore.

No one is really likable and, even worse, with all this rampant horniness going on, there is no skin, no sex, just a lot of talk. Throw in ample amounts of falsified girl power and, when “skinny bitch” goes down, that sound you hear is the applause of every smurfin-over plus-sized girl getting revenge on all the skinny bitches who have ever stole their man. In that respect, you go girl! I’m sure that if they made one of these kind of movies for all the chubby fellas, such as myself, I’d be applauding too.

I fast-forwarded through the useless special features, which included a look at the making of the fight scene between Beyonce and Larter—Yuen Woo-ping, it ain’t!—as well as a feature on the costume design. Fabulous…ly boring.

Contrary to it’s title, Obsessed will be soon forgotten, if it hasn’t been already. There will be no sequel, no spin-off, no TV series. But, and I can guarantee this, that as soon as another album is out, Beyonce will have another easily digestible movie out, hopefully with this Sasha Fierce character I’m hearing so much about. All the single moviegoers, put your hands up!

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