‘I Give it a Year’: more like, I give it a three
I’m going to be real with you for a total of three paragraphs, and then we are going to jump into ratings of hunks and criticisms of bad characters.
A large part of growing up (for me and others) is learning forgiveness. There are so many times in your life when people are going to hurt you and you are going to want to jump into criticisms, cut them out of your life and ensure that as many people as possible don’t interact with them. That’s a radical idea; think about not doing that.
A lot of the feminist media I’ve digested has recently started coming to terms with the idea of forgiveness and the importance of relationships you throw away in order to validate your inner self-worth. That’s been awesome because it is so important to know that there are relationships that would hurt more to throw away. Yes, people cheat, they lie and they hurt you in so many other ways. You don’t have to forgive them; just consider for a moment asking yourself what that relationship means and if you want to lose it.
It’s so easy to cut off people who hurt you, but sometimes it’s more beneficial to ask why something happened and how you can fix it. Part of being a mature and healthy adult is facing conflict rationally and treating other people with respect regardless of your own opinions (not talking dirt, insulting them, screaming at them in hallways).
The people in this movie are not mature and healthy adults. I’m going to describe these people and you tell me if you think they should actually be married after seven months of dating.
The girl: 10/10 babe, but has that look that sorta says, “I’m a type A and I probably actually own a digital planner. Also, every inch of my body is definitely shaved and I only eat kale and the occasional treat of orange juice.”
The guy: I’m a huge mess.
They did get married though – oh boy they did.
“I give it a year,” says a secondary character during the wedding, name dropping the title.
Their wedding was the mediocre wedding of mediocre Pinterest board dreams. Literally the only thing that indicated individuality from the typical tent in a backyard vaguely rustic feel was the fact that there were no Mason jars. It was 2013 though, so Mason jars weren’t, like, “invented” yet.
They have the most basic ceremony I have ever laid my eyes on. The best man comes up and is, surprise, uncouth, and then we’re done. There is literally the worst choreographed dance of all time – a slow rap – and done.
Like nothing else. Flash forward nine months. Except for the guy’s parents standing awkwardly by them and making out. But, you know, basic.
The couple goes to therapy, work and, you know, to talk about their living wills. It’s all very boring and apparently they think as much, because they have a dinner party.
This dinner party is beneficial because it allowed me to reassure myself that the greatest actress of our time was in this movie. She descended onto the earth like an angel with a bad haircut, drinking copious amounts of wine with her rose petal lips.
Anna freaking Faris.
I would take a bus for Anna Faris. A whole bus, full of school children, if Anna was even vaguely in front of it. I would shove her out of the way and let the bus mangle my body. Anna Faris is the Jack Black of female actors; she is perfection.
Anna Faris’s character used to date the huge mess of a guy. This is almost believable, because she does large amounts of charity work on the side.
The dinner party is put off by this because the best man from their wedding is all like, “Anna Faris and my sad sop of a mate never really broke up. In fact, all he did was cry. His time without Anna Faris was the lost years.”
And the wife lady is like, “Okay excuse me, why is she at my dinner party?”
But the husband responds, “Yeah, I totally wanted to end myself without Anna. But I met you and I guess you’re okay. I mean, like, if you ignore your personality.”
And they avoid talking to each other for the rest of the party.
The next day I learn everyone’s names.
Josh (The sad sop of a groom) is hanging out with his ex, Chloe (Anna Faris), at her job and being super, hyper critical of anyone who dares to date her. This is weird and horrible.
But not as weird and horrible as Nat (the wife) who decides to talk badly of an advertising client in a public space, mocking his potential accent and his likely lack of education. She is surprised when he shows up and knows exactly what she said, throwing it back in her face. Because, you know, not even professional. But this must be like the only advertising company in the world, because this American decides to stay with the frigid mistress’s company and instead sort of builds his own ad campaign through them with little input from them.
Also, she is not wearing her wedding ring, which is important because this one detail causes this guy (who actually looks exactly like my father and therefore will not be rated) to look at her butt. This is the height of romance.
I start to get the feel for the movie at this point and realize that everyone (except Anna Faris) is going to cheat on each other and ruin their relationships. This is unsurprising.
Adultery starts edging in, flowers are sent and emotional connections made. Music is badly sung and Anna Faris appears (an angel of temptation).
The man who looks like my dad takes Nat to his bleach factory, telling her about his cleaning solution fortune and making masked references to marrying a woman he’s met once before. She is totally about this and made me want to bleach my life.
There’s a lingerie shopping scene with Anna Faris, a romantic dinner and some heart breaking declarations. You know, basic stuff.
Nat and Josh run into each other with their respective lovers and decide the best course of action is to get their lovers to date each other and go on a double date with them. This works out like trying to put out a fire with newspapers, and Nat and Josh are miserable throughout the whole engagement.
After the double date of death, Nat and Josh decide the best way to make it through the first year of marriage, which they’ve been told is the hardest, is to accept every single fault and quirk of each other. This miraculously doesn’t make them love each other.
If you read the first paragraph of this column, you might also realize that some relationships in life are just so horrible they need to be trashed.
Nat and Josh realize that their relationship is what McDonald’s is to the Olympics: an actual horrible pair that makes people question the integrity of both parties. They run after their lovers who are now madly in love and going to Paris.
Only, I guess they’re not, because Nat and Josh show up in all their basicness and the two lovers pretty much look at each other like, “Well, bye then.”
And then everyone makes out around each other.
Most portions of this movie were borderline horrible. The humor was tacky, the relationships were unhealthy, the characters were unlikely. There were only two highlights: Anna Faris and the clothes.
The clothes were good guys. Like, you know how Victoria’s Secret’s fashion show looks like a middle school art project in motion? These people are actually dressed well, and I’m pretty sure every single outfit in this movie was bought off Amazon.
Every single time they dressed Anna Faris, I could hear an angelic chorus drowning out all of the horrible people as her sweet face was illuminated by light lace detailing.
So I guess the true rating should be:
1/1 Anna Faris
10/10 Amazon clothes shopping.
3/10 for the actual movie.