Princess Diana and a Bucket of Chicken

I don’t like to unsolicitedly critique other people’s artistic work. I mean, my books aren’t that great, so… you know who am I to complain?

But I recently saw Spencer and I had so many questions. So many! Lots directed at people who actually saw the movie and loved it. First and foremost being: Why?

Before jumping into these questions, please note that this post is nothing but spoilers for Spencer. I can’t fully pose my questions without being very specific about the weird things that happen.

Secondly, in case you don’t know, Spencer follows Princess Diana for three days over Christmas the year she finds out that Charles is cheating with Camilla. So she’s going through a lot. 

And here we go:

How is Kristen Stewart the least weird thing in this movie? I am not a K Stew fan, but she does good work in this. Like, the performance has little nuance, but she does a solid job mimicking Diana’s movements and speech. There are some classic odd moments, like the coming out scene (we’ll get there) but generally, it’s good. Everything else is a mess, though. Like, when I saw Bella Swan was going to be Diana, I scoffed. Literally, I said “Scoff!” out loud. But it turns out that was a fine choice. But… the rest of the choices… This leads me to:

What book of indie movie tropes was the script copied and pasted from? If you’ve ever really talked to me about movies, you know I HATE indie movie tropes: people staring out windows, pensive orchestral music that blares way too loudly, beautifully shot scenes that linger and linger and linger and linger, the Oscarbait speech with hysterical crying which comes… really out of no discernable character arc. Spencer hit most of these right on the head. The movie opens with a lot of driving. So much driving. Then, in one of my fave scenes (because I had to stifle laughter), everyone stares at each other at dinner while ominous music blares. So much staring. Once again, a few looks can convey a lot, but this scene wanted you to KNOW that there was tension. So you get 45 cuts of Diana staring at Charles. And Diana staring at the Queen. Then back at Charles. Then the Queen. Then her soup. Then the queen, then Charles, soup again, ad nauseum. To be fair, this scene ends with a pretty dope symbolic image of her eating pearls out of her soup, but it is a JOURNEY to get there. While we’re on the scenes that linger…

Why was the coming-out scene so bizarre? In the movie, Diana’s favorite servant turns out to be a lesbian. Love this! Like, that’s a fun, sweet twist for an indie movie. But, the actual coming-out scene is boffo bananas. The servant goes, “I’m in love with you. Like that.” Then K Stew does her best impression of Julia Roberts when Richard Gere snaps her finger in the necklace box. She laughs and laughs and laughs. Which… why?! Diana was very open to gay folks (see her changing the way AIDs was viewed by shaking hands with patients) – why would she think a lesbian is the funniest thing since Laugh-In? Then her servant is like “Oh, you think this is hilarious! Which makes me so happy!” WOULD IT, SERVANT?! THAT’S YOUR IDEAL COMING-OUT SCENARIO? This segues into a lengthy scene of them running around the beach. So, here you get a twofer on the Indie tropes: deeply emotional scene (which takes a left turn) and a lyrical scene (which puts you in left field after the left turn). This left-field situation occurs again, so I ask…

Why the dancing? In terms of cinematography, this was my fave scene, but it’s absolutely not grounded in anything. So The Ghost of Ann Boleyn saves Diana (again, we’ll get there) and she has a revelation. This revelation is a montage of her dancing in her famous outfits. I mean… okay, it’s cool. Like she runs and dances and that’s liberation, but the movie never indicates that these things matter to her. Even a throwaway line like “I just want to dance, lesbian servant! And run! Freedom is an open field!” Then we’d be at least prepared for this 4-minutes of the movie. As it is, we just get her dancing then we’re supposed to get that she’s cool again. Great visuals… not grounded, so like solid B+ on that work. But, I don’t want to leave Ann Boleyn behind…

Not a question, but let me describe this movie to you and confirm what I saw was accurate: This is the story of Diana who gets lost driving to Christmas (even though the house is right next to her childhood home). On her way (while lost) she sees a scarecrow with her dad’s coat (which has miraculously stayed on the scarecrow for 20+ years). She takes this coat and wants it mended, then starts talking to it. But also in the room she’s staying in, she gets a copy of Ann Boleyn’s biography which invokes Ann Boleyn’s ghost to pursue her and show her about royal family oppression. Mixed in with this is a lot of shots of the kitchen staff preparing meals. Then Diana escapes the house, goes to her childhood home, almost jumps down the stairs, but is saved by Ann Boleyn’s ghost. This leads her to take her kids and drive home blasting Mike and the Mechanics. That’s the story? Okay, well then follow up…

WHAT IS THAT ENDING? WHAT IS IT? PLEASE TELL ME! So, the movie is tonally an indie drama. It’s brooding and sad and there is lots of staring and jazz music. Then after Ann Boleyn saves Diana, she grabs her kids and… the movie turns into a John Hughes movie. Again, I was stifling laughter. Really stifling because everyone around me was INTO this movie. They hop in Diana’s Porsche and she turns on “All I Need Is a Miracle” (to be fair a BOP). As this blasts, two things of import happen: One, it is revealed that the meany-head butler put the Ann Boleyn book in Diana’s room. Like… the shot is him pushing it back in the bookshelf and smiling knowingly as if he was some kind of fairy godfather who orchestrated everything. WHAT?! Even how it’s shot is like we’ve left the movie and turned on the Hallmark Channel. So that happens. Then, secondly, (once again, it’s very important to remember Mike and the Mechanics is blasting) Diana goes through a KFC drive-thru. I embellish a lot in my blogs, but this is a fact. She rolls through a KFC. The movie ends with her kids eating a bucket of chicken and her staring pensively at the Thames. If I were making a parody of an indie movie, I cannot imagine a better ending than that. For me, it’s the fact that you have one of the most beloved figures of the 20th century finding herself… vis a vis chicken and 80’s pop music. I mean sure? But… It’s so dramatically opposed to the overwrought drama of the first 3/4ths of the movie that I COULD NOT PROCESS IT. COULD NOT.

So, those are my questions. As I’ve tried to note throughout there was some beautiful stuff in this movie. K Stew does a good job. The visuals are stunning in a lot of places. But the movie is so. Odd. If you ever wish to watch it with me, though, I would 10000% be down. We can get a bottle of wine and drink every time there is an indie trope. Or you can come out to me and I will roar with laughter because that’s what supportive friends do!

Overall, Spencer: 3 KFC chicken wings out of 5 Stars

The Hard Sell (To My Man Boobs)

COVID has been weird. At first, we were trapped inside all the time, then we weren't, then we were again. Now…no one really knows?

One of the hardest things for me in COVID Land was learning to work from home. I don't know what you call it, but I am a big space/compartmentalization person. I like everything separate. If I write, I need to be in a separate coffee shop space. If I work out it needs to be in a gym I can go to. I (used to) enjoy going to the office, then I could leave the office and work anxiety behind me. Mentally I need this separation. There is probably a name for it. In case there isn't, I'm just going to start calling myself a Space Cowboy.

This Space Cowboy tendency has made things very bizarre in the time of COVID. My last job wasn't even stressful, but because I couldn't leave my "office", I would move to my couch and go to sleep at 4:30 when work was done. Then I'd be tired and not want to leave to go to my coffee shop space to write. This all snowballed so that I started to get up at 4:30 am to go to the gym, so I could get home and write in the mornings, then log on to work.

But… uhh… guess what? I'd get up at 4:30 am, get home at 6:15 am, and nap until 7:15 am when I'd get up, roll to the computer, work til 4:30 pm then… YUP, go nap again.

I used to get up at 5 am, go to work, work out, do writing, then hang out with friends til like 10 pm. Every day! I am getting older, but I feel like a little slow down is fine, sleeping all the time for no reason… that's kind of annoying. 

(We're approaching the man boobs.)

This led to a targeted Facebook ad about testosterone. Basically, it said if you're fatigued all the time as a dude, it could be low testosterone levels.

Rather than just get more sleep (which was hard because I was napping all time…ugghhhh), I thought "Maybe there's a pill I can take! Wouldn't that be totally healthy and great!"

So I paid 40 bucks to get an at-home testosterone test. They send it to you and you have to follow all these steps and put blood on an index card then send it in for a level check.*

*Um… Yes, so I didn't realize how strange it was to send your blood through the mail to strangers until my friends called it out. The company is probably making a clone of me right now. To be fair, though, I already did Ancestry, so they can make all the clones they want. Also, I cannot pursue a future career as a serial killer now because everyone has my DNA. So that’s good?

Anyway, I did the test and sent my blood to strangers.

Ernesto (for good reason) was very suspicious of this whole testosterone, blood, Facebook situation. I told him, I was curious BUT I also joked with him because … I mean, this is a business to sell testosterone to idiots online (like me!). I said I wonder if the "doctor" on the call will be the medical equivalent of a used car salesman. 

I've blogged about it before, but there is this very hilarious thing that men do when they are selling things to other men, ESPECIALLY if it's something to do with masculinity. I had a personal trainer who made me feel like garbage so he could sell me a training package. This was all while he stared at girls and paid no attention to what I was actually doing in the gym.

So, I was prepared for a hard, mind-game sell when I got on the call for the consultation.

And, boy, was I very, very correct!

I'll just record (mostish…with some embellishment…I mean it’s a Tedd Hawks blog, after all) of the dialogue from the convo:

"Hi, I'm Doctor X. What made you sign up for the test?"

"Well, I've been feeling fatigued lately, and it's kind of—"

"Great. So, let's go over your results. You have average testosterone levels. But you're a large, heavy man, so they should be higher."

"Oh, okay."

"Yeah, and your free testosterone is really, really low."

"Like average?”

"Let's look at the whole picture here. So AVERAGE means it's cumulative. There are men in their 80s and 90s in that average. Yours should be much higher. Also, we haven't even talked about your estrogen."

"Oh, okay. But aren’t there like teenagers and twenty-year-olds in that average, too?"

"Maybe. And your estrogen is so high that it’s almost actually high."

"What does that even mean?"

"That's why you have man boobs and that belly fat."

I will pause here because I took this call in the lower level of my condo, which is a garden level. So, it's cold because it's half-buried in the earth. I was wearing a giant sweatshirt. He could not actually see my man boobs or belly fat. Also, whatever tech they were using, I was red and blurry on the video feed anyway? So this statement was very suspicious.

He continued: "My suggestion," he said, "is that we give you two medications: one to lower estrogen and the other to increase your testosterone. The goal is to get you from your levels at 380 to around 800-1000."

My jaw dropped… That's… increasing a lot. So I ask: "Whoa. But what will that do to me, if you almost triple my testosterone?"

I think that's a very fair question. If you have a hormone in your blood that you're going to triple… I mean… I'd just want to know what pumping me full of generic medication would do…

But Doctor X thought that was HILARIOUS. (Why?! I still don't know!) and he roars with laughter and goes:

"Well, you aren't going to turn into Superman!!! You still need to exercise and diet." Then immediately. "Well, your treatment plan is online, so be sure to read everything. Any questions?"

"Uhh…"

"Great."

Call Ended.

The most embarrassing part of this whole thing (aside from a medical professional telling me I'm basically the biggest 36-year-old pansie he's ever met), was that I thought about doing it! I wondered what my life would be like if I pumped myself full of generic medication (intended to enhance female fertility… by the way…) and tripled my hormones. Would I be able to lift a car? At least like a Smart Car or a Jetta? Could I finally grow a beard?

Ultimately after 1 Google search, it didn't sound like a good fit. Too much of this drug turns off your testosterone so you HAVE to take drugs to produce it. Which, I mean, if I'm at high-man-boob risk now, imagine if my levels dropped even further. That’s entering Mansier territory. I also got an email about their forum, and they had a picture of a man in his 60s with a 10 pack and spider veins and I was like "nothing about that looks… super healthy or natural…"

In the end, I decided to keep my belly fat and estrogen. To be honest, when I see guys with a lot of testosterone (i.e. bodybuilders) they are bald and look 20 years older than they should, so I'll stick with what has worked thus far.

In terms of all the napping, I'm still figuring it out. Plan B is to pump myself full of coffee at 3 pm CST every afternoon and push through. I'm not sure how it will affect my man boobs, but the hope is with enough creamer I can eventually lactate Coffeemate. That will save money AND keep me awake.

Take that, Doctor X. XOXO Space Cowboy