I'm a big fan of Gerald Butler, but P.S. I Love You sort of nailed him into my heart.
My childhood pal Lara and I watched this film so often we eventually wore out the D.V.D. Her husband of many years had recently passed away and there was no consoling her so we laid up at the Beverly Wilshire watching Butler lead his mourning widow into the light through cryptic but enchanting messages.
Lara would sob, I would laugh, then there was a combination of the two, ultimately leading to the first step in Lara's healing.
Which is to say, I got her out of bed and we went to St. Tropez, because sometimes you just need a major change of scenery.
Lara: Dex, fire up the jet.
Of course I was familiar with Butler's machismo side with 300 and Chasing Mavericks, but would always returned to his movies where his charming, witty side was on display, no matter the quality of the film, Playing For Keeps, Bounty Hunter. I cared not.
He also channels my girl's father in such a way I've gotten calls.
"When did Mark start acting?" (They look eerily similar.)
However, this is always in reference to that part of Butler he can't keep in the box; over the top charm to the point of annoyance. But I like when people don't try to hide their "cray-cray" because then I know I can trust them. The girl's father sings and whistles constantly to where I need earplugs. When I beg for him to stop, he always says:
"I was the lead singer in a rock band when I was training to be a lawyer, why waste that god given talent?"
Back to Gerry.
Then I saw this and felt horrible I wasn't there to save him.
Um, don't come any closer. ^ ^ ^ ^ I mean, he's pushing her away! Get a clue lady.
She's all, but check out my ass. Here his publicist steps in.
Publicist: Gerald, the cameras are on us. Just act like you know her.
Gerald: Oh, right. The gal from Orlando. How's it going?
Gal: Orlando? Try Brooklyn but that works. Check out my ta-ta's Gerry.
She ripped open her dress to reveal a lovely rack. Gerald doesn't want to offend. The publicist leans in to whisper.
Crikey, I have to let her kiss me. Please no
Fu****g nut job. She wants me to Facebook her. As if. I hope that hottie across the pool doesn't think I'm taken.
Meanwhile, I was in my own carpool listening to my kids talk but I have no idea what they are saying. It's all code now.
A: Kat is so off the hizzy. Right?
E: For shiz. When she dissed me at lunch, totes rachet!
A: I'm sticking with my mains. Plus she never got back on PetShop.
E: Uh! R-Bomb.
A: I sold my Rainbows but now the school is mad about my flex.
For a more in-depth, serious analysis of all things Butler, this is a great interview.
Rhonda Talbot on Gerald Butler, photo-ops, familiarity and pre-teen slang.