"No. I am a male."
That was a friend's reply when I e-mailed asking whether he'd seen this movie called Rachel Getting Married. I could see the guy's point. As it happens, it was the film's soul-crushingly chick-flick-tastic title that attracted me in the first place. For reasons I won't go into (okay, I'm sort of a control freak), I tend to oversee the Netflix queue in our household—but while I may be a control freak, I'm not a moron, and I'm well aware that there are only so many times a girl can watch The Last Detail before she starts to bristle. And so, after subjecting my wife to yet another cathartic go-round with Billy Buddusky, I knew it was in everyone's best interest to change up the mood a bit. Which is how a 2008 film with the deadly title Rachel Getting Married recently ended up in our DVD player. I mean, it's a flick about a wedding starring that girl from The Devil Wears Prada—that ought to buy me 90 minutes of Tyson, no?
Here's another question: If you end up enjoying a movie that was added to your queue for purely strategic reasons, does it lose all strategic value? Because Rachel Getting Married is actually worth watching on its own merits. No, seriously, I really loved it. (And so, for the record, did my wife.) The writing's smart, funny, and moving; the directing's nimble and intimate, and the same's true for the acting.