Genuine Hollywood-insider gossip at the end of this blog! But first...
I fell madly in love with The Lost City. Bear in mind that I’ve boycotted Hollywood for years, so I’d been deprived of the big-screen experience. But it wasn’t just the cinematography of the island jungle (filmed in the Dominican Republic); even more than the exotic scenery, I loved the protagonist played by Sandra Bullock.
Bullock* plays a grieving, burned-out romance novelist, “Loretta,” who had once been a serious archeology student. Her knowledge of the island’s ancient language lands Loretta in the clutches of a treasure-hunting billionaire (played amusingly by the Harry Potter actor). I liked the inclusion of his character because I think we need to expose such megalomania of the ultra-rich. (Klaus Schwab, anyone?) But it’s Loretta's character whom I cherish. She’s nerdy but willing to sacrifice her dignity and temper her ideals in order to fulfill her professional obligations. And she hadn’t stooped to writing bodice busters purely for mercenary gain: her passionate romance with her now-dead husband had been the center of her life.
Love is more important to women than to men: a generalism, but I stand by it. Women bond so deeply, other human beings are literally part of our own bodies!
One complaint about feminism is that, in its current form, it destroys “la différence” that feeds romance. The ruling cabal of satanic perverts go so far as obliterating womanhood by pretending that a male can give birth, etc. But this movie The Lost City acknowledges “la différence” by having Loretta’s husband be a serious academic while her tendency is more sensual and frivolous. Indeed, she spends the movie in a sequin jumpsuit.
Admittedly, that gaudy attire had been the brainchild of her publicist, an obese black woman “Beth.” The identity politics here isn’t too annoying. Of course Beth is depicted as being as integral to Loretta’s rescue as the white males. My objection is the idea that Loretta needs Beth bossing her around. But maybe I’m just traumatized by BLM bullies. What’s sad is that Beth is more interested in getting a massage than in a romance with the eager, adorable cargo pilot. I love massage but romance is much better, even if you may have to lose weight to enjoy it.
Loretta’s love interest is her book-cover model, a Fabio-like “Alan” played by Channing Tatum as a hilarious male bimbo. As one review puts it,
“The himbo….is an underrated feminist archetype, a positive image of masculinity that simultaneously critiques the kinds of wild expectations we place on men. It’s all about subversion – that what he’s ultimately valued for aren’t the superficial markers of dominance or caveman brawn, but the pure goodness of his heart.”
Loretta calls herself a sapiosexual, a trait I share. So I never bought her attraction to the himbo Alan. I may have slept with an odd idiot because he seemed sweet. But I really can’t imagine falling in love with anyone not my intellectual equal (which is a low enough bar, as you can see.) Analyzing the screenplay as propaganda, I see Alan as the neutered boy-man that our ruling cabal promotes to the detriment of red-blooded patriots and white-supremacist domestic terrorists (AKA normal self-respecting men).
A side note: studies showed that birth-control hormones, by mimicking pregnancy, influence women to be attracted to homebody types rather than sexier alpha males with more desirable genes.
As a fellow aging, jaded writer, I can understand Loretta’s temptation to settle for a facsimile of true love. Surely she can use her ingenuity to compensate for Alan’s shortcomings. But I speak from experience: things may get messy if you proceed to get within range of REAL partner material. In the film, Brad Pitt plays the role of a black-ops type who helps rescue Loretta from the depraved treasure hunter. Pitt’s macho man happens to be literate and clever. Love at first sight!
Sadly, life isn’t a movie. Ladies, indulge your fantasies in the shadows of the cinema, but prepare yourself for the inevitable blinding daylight. At some point in life, we can grow out of the craving for romance, and discover the spiritual satisfaction of connecting with all sentient beings who are capable of affection. We can unearth a lost city, our family of humankind.
The author VC Bestor is Director of the non-profit
FangedWilds.org
a project encouraging women to engage constructively with apex predators.
"Find the meat of the matter"
V.C Bestor on Twitter
and FascistBook
*Bullock first won my heart in Blind Side, a movie that undermined the satanic elites’ agenda to disarm our 2nd Amendment: it showed that packing “the equalizer” empowers women at least as much as befriending big black guys.
Insider Scoop?
Sandra Bullock was married to Jesse James, giving him this touching accolade: “There is no surprise that my work got better when I met you because I never knew what it felt like for someone to have my back.” Suddenly it came to light that he’d been cheating on her. The gossip: his ex-wife Janine Lindemulder was a honeypot who reportedly seduced the investigative journalist George Webb (Sweigert), sabotaging his relationship after he’d helped expose that the FBI had entrapped the “Christmas Tree Bomber” in Portland. Webb speculated that the FBI had pressured Lindemulder into service by leveraging her troubles with the IRS; she got 6 months in prison for tax evasion.
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