Minnesota State University Reporter

Issue date: 2/9/10 Section: Voices

With Valentine's Day coming up in less than a week, and all the glorious goodies that come along with it having festered on the shelves of Wal Mart for more than a month, I couldn't help but take notice of Warner Brothers' upcoming - and originally named - film, "Valentine's Day". 

Starring a screen-bloating 23 member cast (Julia Roberts, Jessica Alba, Ashton Kutcher, Bradley Cooper, Jamie Foxx, Jennifer Garner, Queen Latifah…(Christ, the shitty list never ends!) "Valentine's Day" is clearly relying on its originality and cutting-edge scripting to stuff moviegoers into $12 seats this weekend. 

But I guess it makes sense.  Who wouldn't want to tack another $40 onto their credit card after spending $125 on flowers and chocolate?  You might as well even out the bill and see the movie twice if only for the rush. 

Indeed, critics are already hailing the film, which seems to have transcended our conception of Valentine's Day as a silly commercial holiday with its unbelievable storyline and unique themes of love, people talking, crying, and broken - then reunited - relationships.

And it is original.  According to a synopsis on IMDB.com, "'Valentine's Day' follows several intertwining couples and singles in Los Angeles who break-up and make-up on based on the pressures and expectations of Valentine's Day."

Like I'm sure you are now, I was just floored when I read this thing.  I'd always hoped, after many restless nights and broken dreams, that someone would pioneer a new type of romantic comedy.  No longer founded on the principles of cheap laughs and star power, this new style would combine the converging plot themes and comedy found in Quentin Tarantino films with the unifying spark of holiday exploitation and relationship clichés found in classic movies like "Fred Claus". 

Let me tell you, friends, that day has come, and it is glorious. I recently watched the two-minute trailer on the movie's website, which I had to replay six or seven times before I was able to snuff my excitement, and was given a much-obliged sneek peek at some critic comments.

"Hugs, laughs, love, and surprises!" One read.

"You'll fall in love with 'Valentine's Day'!"  said another, followed by, "The perfect date movie!"

And finally, the old faithful, all-knowing assessment of a comedy film: "Hilarious!!!"

That's right, the movie is so fucking funny that three exclamation marks are required to measure its prowess.  I mean, it's as if we've entered a new world where comedies of old - with their single or double exclamation point comments - are no longer viable, that whatever we thought we knew, we had no idea.

Nevertheless, I find myself suddenly cold as I sit before my open computer.  Empty as I glance around the room, watching from the corner of my eye as Queen Latifah dances merrily across the screen and Julia Roberts smiles, her teeth bright like those of the Cheshire, seeming to stretch endlessly, daring infinity to catch their pace. 

I push the laptop away for a moment to catch my breath, to unbury my eyes from the apparent beacon of hope splayed across the screen, and then I see it.  Clear as God's light, and just as immortal, two pairs of words flicker silently across the screen, the faces of Kutcher, Biel, and Swift grinning obtusely from behind, they read: "Makeout Spots.  Click now!" 

And I click.  Like Alice in her Wonderland I click, diving deep into the rabbit hole, following his every link and Facebook request until I stumble upon a secret of unknown power.  A secret that might eventually lead, if left unkempt, to the very unraveling of humanity: vdaymakeoutspot.com. 

It's a website dedicated to finding make-out spots anywhere in the United States, for the price of a zip code.  Fear swells inside me, fills my body until I'm choking, gagging on the idea of a world in which websites were created for the sole purpose of finding make out spots. 

I'd had nightmares in the past about such a world.  A future world in which people could no longer find their own make-out spots, where couples could no longer abstain from licking each other's faces until they got home and where robot cats wandered the earth, destroying daycares to use their precious cargo - children- as collateral for Meow Mix.    

As I stare, wide eyed and surreal into the dark void of that website, I lean back and close my eyes, wiping the sweat from my brow before opening them again.  I glance at my cat, his sleepy eyes and solemn purr no longer fooling me, and breath deep before flipping open my pocket knife and setting it on the table, just so he knew it was there. 

I look back at the computer. "From the director of Pretty Woman comes a day in the life of love," the movie's tagline reads. The words echo in my mind while I glance at the cat again. His eyes are open now, glaring deeply into mine, and I look away, fear gripping my heart. He meows loudly, as if to show his dominance, and I reach for the pocket knife, grasping it tightly. It's only a matter of three day's time, now, and he knows it as well as I. It's only a matter of time.

Matt Sauer is a Reporter staff writer

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