The Client List July 20, 2010Posted by Rusty in the client list.
Oh my God. The Client List. Oh my God.
I actually buckled down for this one. No drinking with friends while cracking jokes. Oh no. Not this time. I even took notes! The notes were only necessary for some the wacky one-liners and zingers. Stray observation type stuff. I will not be needing notes for the grand finale when Lifetime finally killed feminism once and for all.
So Jennifer Love Hewitt of vajazzling fame plays Sam, a former beauty queen turned struggling mother of three. Her husband’s football career never took off because of a bum knee and both find themselves out of work. They live in Texas where the hair is big and the accents are atrocious. The house is in foreclosure and they can’t even afford the entry fee for their son to play flag football. Thankfully, the bank gives them a one month extension on the mortgage. Why? Because of Sam’s ridiculously tight dress and her photographic memory recalling that the lender suggested one of those evil subprime mortgages. Oh, and pumpkin pie perfume because Sam read that the smell of pumpkins gives dudes massive boners.
I wonder if Sam’s sex appeal and memory will have some sort of significance later.
Sam applies for a job at a massage parlor because somewhere between winning a pageant and shitting out three kids, she got licensed in two different kinds of massage. A real good investment. Also good investments that the happy couple makes include getting blindingly drunk at the local watering hole and playing the lottery. Now Harmony and I work with distressed populations (remember, we are heroes), so the last thing I want to do is sound like I’m judging. But, come on, guys. Get it together.
Sam gets the job and watches a massage. I assumed that the parlor would ease her into the whole entire prostitution thing, but, no. Sam watches a girl give a fat dude a blowie. She storms out but after declaring that “a girl this pretty shouldn’t be poor,” she goes back to start her career as a sex worker. After all, it beats waitressin’!
The hookers are fantastic, by the way. They are all good Texas folk. One claims whorin’ is like killing a man. It gets easier after the first time. Another prides herself on her Viagra giveaways because “that little blue pill keeps us in the black.” Such sassiness! And they give Sam shots of tequila at 9am to loosen her up. Best job ever!
After the first day on the job, Sam has a conversation with herself on the way home. She is talking to her dashboard guardian angel. (The dashboard is a nice touch since it is literally impossible to drive faster than it can fly thus saving you the cost of a horrible bumper sticker.) Then she tells the angel that she needs to pull over so she can throw up. I always talk to myself about needing to throw up before throwing up. Normal human behavior.
Then we get a montage of Sam in all sorts of different lingerie and costumes servicing clients. It’s awesome. Does anyone want to have a debate over the feminist ramifications of ogling Jennifer Love Hewitt’s breasts? I am a feminist and I’m still staring. Having my cake and eating it too. She is a pretty lady.
(FYI, “Party of Five” has always been my favorite masturbation euphemism. And there are three reasons that it’s a good euphemism. Two of them are Jennifer Love Hewitt’s breasts.)
Ugh, gross! I am sexualizing body parts! That is not feminist sounding at all. Jennifer Love Hewitt is regressing me back to middle school. I am gross and will stop. Sorry.
I should remind myself that I don’t need to worry about being a feminist, because, as mentioned earlier, this movie has killed off feminism once and for all. Jennifer Love Hewitt is standing over Rosie the Riveter’s grave in a teddy.
Apparently whoring makes you crazy wealthy. The mortgage isn’t an issue. Nor is buying your husband a fucking motorcycle. I know it isn’t just a river in Egypt, but the amount of denial on display from her husband here is staggering. It’s more like depacificocean.
But things are going well! You can tell Sam is a prostitute now because she wears lipstick everywhere. The husband is happy because he has a chopper. And the kids are happy because they get two desserts in their lunch (seriously). Everything is peaches and sex work.
Except one of the hookers isn’t having such a good time. She’s younger and very Christian. After seeing her pastor in the brothel, she has a crisis of faith. Her family doesn’t want her and “Idol auditions aren’t for another six months.” (There are so many “seriouslies” going on here, guys!) She quits the business and tells a bunch of Christians what’s going on. Those Bible Thumpers are going to ruin everything! Why can’t they just let a sex ring exist in peace?
Sam is getting kudos for being the best prostitute in town. What’s her secret? Listening and cooking. She bakes cookies for her johns. The cookies are a nice bonus. Sam apparently has twice as many clients as any of the other prostitutes. Presumably her vagina looks like a buzzard’s neck. A bedazzled buzzard.
Oh, Sam does have one other secret. Cocaine.
The cocaine, parenting, and whoring are taking a lot out of her. She almost falls asleep at the wheel! She is curt with her daughter! She isn’t as nice to her clients!
It actually made me sad that Sam wasn’t as good of a sex worker as she used to be. But it’s a moot concern since the police bust the massage parlor. Sam gets perp walked in a bra and panties. I don’t think the police would do that, but, whatever.
Back at the local bar, Sam’s husband is watching a football game on TV. They cut away from the game to show the prostitution bust. The chances of a station cutting away from football for a local news story in Texas are negative 1000%. Sam gets recognized and, uh oh, Spaghettios!
Sam gets bailed out and begs for forgiveness and, surprise!, she doesn’t get it. Sam’s husband takes the kids and gets the Hell out of Dodge. Meanwhile, Sam is looking at two years for prostitution and cocaine possession. If only she had some skill to bargain her sentence down.
Remember her memory? If Sam were watching/reading this, she would remember her memory.
Sam bargains everyone down to 30 days by revealing 69 (SERIOUSLY) of her clients. This includes judges, doctors, lawyers, and other prominent members of the community. Because journalism is as dead as feminism post-Client List, the local papers and stations publish the list as fact. Why not.
And here is where feminism died. A mob of angry women barge in on Sam. Sam may be a whore, but she is a polite whore, so she makes them iced tea. Then she apologizes. She was raised to only care about her looks and not her brains so when she was in trouble, that’s what she leaned on. Basically it was her mom’s fault.
But the mob tells Sam that they aren’t looking for an apology. They’re looking for advice. “What did you do to make our men happy? What are we missing?” Oh. My. God. Sam then grabs a banana and commences with the lesson.
Since Sam was such a good prostitute because of listening and cookies, I imagine that’s part of the advice too. I am going to make that leap. It’s the women’s fault since they didn’t cook enough. See. I told you. Feminism is over. Back to the kitchens, ladies!
It’s been brought to my attention that this is basically the ending to The Ladies Man, but with the genders reversed. And that gender reversal makes this totally unacceptable.
Sam becomes a waitress after her jail term and it is implied that her ex-husband is willing to give it another shot. No harm, no foul, amiright?
I was enjoying this movie. I really was. It was so….competent. Sure, having Sam talk to a guardian angel is the laziest narrative device I’ve ever seen. And the movie somehow got less interesting when cocaine was added to the equation. But any criticisms went out the window once this movie got to Crazy Town.
HEY! IT’S THAT GUY!: 8
I’ve focused enough on Jennifer Love Hewitt. But there’s so much more! She dated an alumni of Sacred Heart High School. I am an alumni of Sacred Heart High School! It’s within the realm of possibility, guys!
not pictured: a shit ton of Abercrombie. pictured: The SAC
I just remembered that vajazzling thing and I am suddenly freaked out by J-Love. Rich Cronin can have her.
Oh, Cybil Shepherd was in this too.
This movie is so regressive that it actually might be too Lifetimey to be Lifetimey if that makes any sense. But a woman loses her way, does some sordid stuff, and comes out with less jail time than a Lohan. Redemption! Lifetime!
GRAND TOTAL: 37
This is the third highest rated Lifetime movie. It will be on next weekend. DVR it. OR WATCH IT ONLINE AT MYLIFETIME.COM
I watched this on Monday. I saw Inception on Tuesday. I preferred the former. My infallibility combined with transitive properties says that if you liked Inception, you will love The Client List.