Picture the scene:
It's a quiet Saturday night and I'm at my mom's house and there is not a drop of alcohol to be found (with the exception of my stepdad's Coors Lites and a few Smirnoff Ices, so basically no alcohol to be found). Still reeling from my original Tom hard-on after seeing The Dark Knight Rises, I decide that there is no better time than the depressingly sober present to start delving into Tom Hardy's body of work.
I decide to start with Bronson for a few reasons:
- It has Tom Hardy in it
- It was directed by Nicolas Winding Refn, who directed some movie called Drive, I don't know, I don't think anyone really saw it or cared about it, who is Ryan Gosling anyways? I heard the soundtrack sucked.
- Bronson kind-of looks like Bane
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| Excellent choices, Lauren, I really commend you, you have excellent taste in cinema. |
Everything's going well, we are enjoying watching Tom Hardy-as-Michael Peterson-also-known-as-Charles Bronson-but-not-the-actor beat the living shit out of everything that crosses his path. Charlie Bronson sure does love being in jail, doesn't he? Charlie Bronson sure likes to beat people up, doesn't he? Hey Charlie, you just took that prison guard hostage! Why are you taking your clothes off, Charlie? Oh Charlie, I don't think that's body paint ... please Charlie, we can see your penis! You're going to get yourself hurt down there if you fight a bunch of prison guards in your birthday suit!
This is, of course, the moment that my mother decides to wake from her slumber and come downstairs to walk in on what is decidedly a very awkward moment in the film, with or without the context of the rest of the film and ...
I can't pause the movie.
I can't turn the movie off.
I can't turn the TV off.
"What are you watching?" she asks as I spring from the couch to physically turn the damned thing off.
Moms have never seen penises in their lives and I am trying very desperately to save her from such an atrocity, it would be terrible if I had to be the one to break it to her that yes, penises exist and yes, there is a penis on her very large television.
"Oh just uhh ... this movie by uhh ... a director I like." All true things. The damned thing still won't turn off and I'm pushing the power button frantically.
I can only assume that she doesn't have her contacts in and her eyes are clouded by sleep as she does not seem to pay any attention to the spectacle at hand and continues to walk into the kitchen. The movie has now decided that it would like to be paused and does so accordingly and I take it upon myself to take a break until she goes away.
So yes ladies, and also gentlemen, this is a movie with Tom Hardy's penis. If you're into those sorts of things. If you're not a mom. And if you're still interested, tumblr has a plethora of gifs and screenshots of said penis. You can find them on your own as I think it's hella creepy but I mean I guess this is coming from someone who took time out of their life to craft a blog called Tom Hard-On so who am I to judge.
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| Who the fuck are you calling a juggalo? |
But in all seriousness, I really did enjoy Bronson. I am kicking myself for not watching it earlier as it'd been on Netflix for ages but the color scheme of the poster coupled with the image of a very buff, mustachioed man didn't exactly appeal to me. Please folks, let this be a lesson in basing decisions on what you do and do not find aesthetically pleasing! And this movie was aesthetically pleasing as hell. I loved the graininess of the film, the inherent emptiness and loneliness in the cinematography, classical music mired with 80s new wave and Glass Candy.
In fact, this is a rare case of me actually enjoying the film in which I also enjoy Tom Hardy's performance. Although it wasn't a very long movie, it did feel like it dragged every once in a while and I wasn't always sure in what direction the film was headed but overall watching it not only once, but twice! felt like a reward instead of a chore. And even though I went into the film knowing zilch about Charles Bronson and was left with little-to-no desire to learn more (I know, I know, it's hard to believe that I have very little interest in British prisoners), I found myself sympathizing with this psychopath. This would be the part where someone would go off on a diatribe about trying to put square pegs into things that aren't square and you know like, maybe he was just misunderstood and let's talk about the implications of just putting people in prison and mental wards and leaving them there because society doesn't know what to do with these miscreants.
But that's not this blog. I'm just here to talk about how I feel about Tom Hardy movies, folks! And Bronson's a keeper. Just don't let your mom watch it.
In fact, this is a rare case of me actually enjoying the film in which I also enjoy Tom Hardy's performance. Although it wasn't a very long movie, it did feel like it dragged every once in a while and I wasn't always sure in what direction the film was headed but overall watching it not only once, but twice! felt like a reward instead of a chore. And even though I went into the film knowing zilch about Charles Bronson and was left with little-to-no desire to learn more (I know, I know, it's hard to believe that I have very little interest in British prisoners), I found myself sympathizing with this psychopath. This would be the part where someone would go off on a diatribe about trying to put square pegs into things that aren't square and you know like, maybe he was just misunderstood and let's talk about the implications of just putting people in prison and mental wards and leaving them there because society doesn't know what to do with these miscreants.
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| That's just what this blog needs, psychological pedanticism! Also strippers. |
But that's not this blog. I'm just here to talk about how I feel about Tom Hardy movies, folks! And Bronson's a keeper. Just don't let your mom watch it.
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