Brilliant. Pure genius. And did I mention brilliant?
I used to think "The Godfather" was the best movie I've ever seen.
I used to think Jack Nicholson in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" was the best performance I've ever watched.
And I used to think that "The Big Chill" was the best movie soundtrack I ever heard.
Then I saw the movie "Crossroads," starring Britney Spears.
Now, I think "Crossroads" is the best movie I've ever seen. I think Britney Spears in "Crossroads" was the best performance I've ever watched. And I think "Crossroads" has the best movie soundtrack I've ever heard.
And while I realize that some of you may be questioning my perception of any movie starring my girlfriend, I'm here to tell you that our relationship has in no way skewed my view of this stunning film.
It's just that good.
I believe that in the future, "Crossroads" is a film that will be viewed for its social importance. It's a film that sets a new standard for celluloid excellence, in a part because of an outstanding script, but primarily due to a virtuoso performance by arguably the finest actress of our generation:
My second wife, Britney Spears.
Truth is, as I stood at Blockbuster and read the back of the box for "Crossroads," I knew I wouldn't be disappointed:
"CROSSROADS is the story of three childhood friends, Lucy (Britney Spears), Kit (Zoe Saldana) and Mimi (Taryn Manning), who, after eight years apart, rediscover their friendship on a cross-country trip. With barely a plan, practically no money but plenty of dreams, the girls catch a lift with Mimi's handsome friend Ben (Anson Mount) in his '73 Buick convertible. Along the way they not only gather experiences that will change their lives forever, but they also discover how important it is to hold onto their hearts' desires."
"It sounds passionate," I said to my wife.
"It looks adventurous," I said to my wife.
"It should be dynamic," I said to my wife.
"You are a pervert," my wife said to me.
Jealous. She's just jealous.
Later that night, as we settled in our living room to watch, I sat anxiously, hoping "Crossroads" would give Britney the opportunity she so justly deserved to display her remarkable talents.
Approximately 32 seconds into the movie, there was my sweetheart, dancing around her bedroom in white cotton panties.
Prior to last Saturday, the three best movie scenes ever:
1. The shower scene in "Psycho."
2. The General's speech to the troops in "Patton."
3. "Rocky" finishing his run at the museum.
After last Saturday, the three best movie scenes ever:
1. The first 16 seconds of "Crossroads."
2. The next 16 seconds of "Crossroads."
3. The first 16 seconds of "Crossroads," rewound.
Already, I was fairly certain this was destined to be a great movie.
Soon, Britney's father -- a mechanic played by Dan Akroyd -- walked in and reminded her to get ready for graduation because "the valedictorian can't be late."
"See? She's beautiful and smart," I said.
"I cannot believe I'm married to you," said my wife.
As the movie progressed, we saw graduation, a graduation party, and then Britney in a hotel room with her boyfriend, about to lose her virginity.
As he waited on the bed, Britney walked out of the bathroom wearing a black jacket. She then came over to the bed and opened her jacket to reveal a pink bra and panties.
And while I don't remember saying, "I love you, Britney," I must've said "I love you, Britney." Otherwise, I can't really figure out why my wife would throw a spoon at my head like that.
As I watched the two get ready to play a little game of Hide the Sausage...as they prepared to Do a Little Front Door Work, engage in an Assault with a Friendly Weapon, and Bisect the Triangle, Britney pulled away from the geek and said, "I'm sorry, this just doesn't feel right."
She was right, of course.
It was never going to feel right unless it was with a balding, big-eared Jewish man, twice her age.
Nevertheless, it was a touching moment.
"She reminds me of a young Meryl Streep," I said. "But way cuter."
Then I said, "Again with the spoon?"
Over the next few minutes, the storyline to "Crossroads" played out like this:
Britney and her two friends -- one, a white-trash pregnant loser, the other a bitch -- decided they needed to go out west because:
*The pregnant one wanted to audition as a singer.
*The bitch wanted to see her college fiancé.
*Britney wanted to see her mom in Arizona. The mother who had abandoned her when she was three.
And so, the three of them hopped in a car for a cross-country drive with a mysteriously handsome guitar player who was a friend of the white-trash pregnant chick.
"Good characters, good plot," I said.
"This is pathetic. And she's changed her clothes five times already," said my wife.
"Six," I said.
Soon after their trip started, however, the mysteriously handsome guitar player's car broke down, and they suddenly needed some extra money.
Thankfully, the local bar was having a karaoke contest.
My, my, my. What an ingenious, surprising twist in the plot by the writers.
Because whether they realized it or not, when Britney's not acting…she sings!
It was a perfect way to showcase her brilliance.
It's wonderful, unexpected turns like this that make a great film, great.
When it came time for the contest, Britney and the girls walked on stage. She was wearing a short jean skirt, a low-cut black ripped t-shirt and knee-high boots.
If I were her father, I probably would've been upset.
Fortunately, I'm not her father, so I enjoyed the short jean skirt, the low-cut black ripped t-shirt and the knee-high boots quite a bit.
Britney sang "I Love Rock and Roll." And while she was singing, she was swinging from the stripper's pole at the bar.
This, friends, was a fabulous scene.
It was as good as the classic opening scene of "The Sound of Music," with the sweeping aerial view through the clouds and across rocky, snow-covered mountains.
Yes, it was as good as that scene. Plus, it had Britney Spears swinging from a stripper's dance pole.
Frankly, by this point in the movie I almost forgot I was watching pop teen sensation and love of my life, Britney Spears, and I felt as if I was just watching the heartwarming story of a girl named Lucy. Then I saw her ass when she walked away from the camera and I remembered that it was, in fact, pop teen sensation and love of my life, Britney Strauss.
Spears. Britney Spears.
That night, the four friends decided to camp out. And by the light of the campfire, we saw Britney deep in thought, writing in a notepad.
The mysteriously handsome guitar player -- who now clearly had a crush on Britney -- spoke to her.
"What are you writing?" he asked.
"Poems," she said.
"Can I hear one?" he asked.
"Don't laugh," she said.
Good lord. Talk about incredible dialogue. Perfectly written lines. Perfectly delivered.
Only time will tell, but I think, "Don't laugh" could be Britney's signature phrase.
Like Arnold's, "I'll be back."
Like Humphrey Bogart's, "Here's looking at you, kid."
Like Jenna Jamison's, "Who's next?"
As Britney recited her poem -- which happened to be the lyrics to her song, "I'm Not A Girl" -- the mysteriously handsome guitar player said, "I like them."
"Really?" she said.
"Jesus Christ, this is the dumbest movie I've ever seen," said my wife.
"I've got chills," I said.
The movie then cut to the next day when, with everyone else heading to L.A., Britney was dropped off in Tuscon, at the home of her mother.
I saw this as a crucial scene for Britney. It was an opportunity to deliver 15 years of pain in a single moment as she reunited with her long lost mother.
As the front door opened, we saw that her mom was Kim Catrall, the slut/whore from "Sex and the City."
I sat with eager anticipation, waiting for Britney's perfect line. I waited for her to look at this woman who had hurt her so badly so many years ago and talk about her feelings of forgotten love. Of the angst and despair and confusion that she had felt throughout her young life. Of the bittersweet emotions she had kept bottled inside.
"Hi mom, it's me Lucy," she said.
"Come on in," said her mother.
What a rollercoaster they put me through with that dramatic exchange.
Of course it would've been easy to try and find some sort of "Of all the gin joints in the world" kind of line, but this emotionally charged, yet subtly understated treatment truly captured the moment.
"Is there, like, a Little League World Series game or a live execution or something else we could watch right now?" said my wife.
Unfortunately, the mother/daughter meeting didn't go well. And honestly, while her mom said her birth was a mistake, I think it had more to do with the fact that Kim Catrall realized her hotness couldn't compare to the hotness of Britney Spears.
Of course, I could be wrong.
And so, with much chagrin, a tearful Britney left and caught up with her friends at their hotel.
She sat on the edge of the bed and ran the gamut of emotions you'd expect one to run when your mother tells you that you were a huge mistake and you need to get out of her life.
I know how I felt when it happened to me.
When they arrived in L.A. the following day, the other two girls wanted to go out on the town, but Britney and the mysteriously handsome guitar player decided to stay back. They both said they were tired.
I believed her when she said she was tired, too. Which was another testament to her acting.
Because, as I soon found out, she wasn't really tired.
She was ready. Rea-dy.
Yes, the film went slo-mo, and the "I'm-about-to-have-sex-for-the-first-time" music started. I again watched with eager anticipation. Because knowing my darling's purity, I wanted to see if Britney could pretend to act like she knew anything about sex.
I sat. I waited. I drooled.
And as her top was about to come off, the DVD player locked up.
"Aw gee, that's too bad," said my wife.
Naturally, I tried to get the DVD back to that point in the movie, but it kept skipping by the scene and going instead to the next scene. The scene where her two friends went to visit the bitch's college boyfriend and saw that he had another girl at his apartment and even worse, it turned out that he had raped and impregnated the white trash girl and then, as the two girls ran away, the pregnant one tripped and fell down the stair and lost her baby.
And while I was certain the writers wanted me to feel badly for these two girls, I just felt badly for myself because I didn't get to see the Carnal Connection. The Churning of the Butter. The Corking of the Onion. The Delivery of the Wood. The Hiding of the Hooded Hodad.
"Sorry for you," said my wife again.
Jealous. She was just jealous.
Near the end of the movie, Britney's dad showed up in L.A. and told her it was time to go home. But instead, she chose to stay with the mysteriously handsome guitar player and try to pursue a singing career.
She then went to an audition where she wowed the judges.
Then again, how could she not? How could the judges not notice the remarkable resemblance between Lucy and pop teen sensation and love of my life, Britney Spears?
As the movie ended, we can only assume that she got the recording contract, the guy and a hundred bazillion dollars.
Great ending. Great film.
In summary, I found Britney's performance to be exemplary.
The fact that she found it within herself to play the role of an innocent young girl who wanted to be a singer is almost incomprehensible.
How she did it, I have no idea.
"I loved that movie," I said.
"Can I have that spoon back for a second?" said my wife.