Vanila Sky

I’m pretty sure you all know what I am talking about. This Tom Cruise movie (with Penelope Cruz, and Cameron Diaz and the guy from “Almost Famous” and “My name is Earl”) Last Friday just after “Heroes” while zapping my life away – as it’s become my custom- I discovered it back in Universal Channel. “A Tom Cruise movie” I thought to myself. “Perfect to fall a sleep with” I was very tired and having my dreams influenced by Tom Cruise’s millions dollar smile and disturbing blue eyes seemed very attractive at the moment. BOY HAD I NO IDEA!

We all know how it begins, we all know how it ends “Open your eyes” Well, I took this line very seriously, not only for the two hours that the TV transmission lasted but for several hours after that, till sunrise. I was already falling a sleep when I first heard her “Open your eyes” and so I did. And was never able to close them again.

But this is not what I meant to talk about. Besides the oniric, psychological, psychotic, trip which kept me awake all night and some nights later, I couldn’t avoid thinking about the female characters. (Yes, I do realize what a big cliché is for a critic wannabe to discourse upon the subject of the female archetypes, but as I was saying, I couldn’t help myself)

So we have this girl, Sofia (Penelope Cruz) this naib foreigner dancer that moves into New York in search of “opportunity”. She is spontaneous and fun. She is not by any chance an easy girl and off course she is not interested in money or in the snobbish world in which she “accidentally” meets the main character. She has the pureness her antagonist lacks, and this fashionable Latin accent which Americans are so fond of lately and sometimes she starts speaking Spanish with no filmic justification what so ever. The thing is everyone falls for Sofia, she is the kind of girl that rich, hot, fun, not so stupid, blue-eyed guys dream of throughout their lives. Then, there is Julie (Cameron Díaz) who can not have a more accurate description than the one made by Sofia herself, the first time they met. “The saddest girl to ever hold a martini” This pseudo independent, pseudo liberalized, sexual, sexy gow. Nobody falls for her. She doesn’t fall for anybody. Or so she says. But she does, we all know she will, and she does. She falls for “him” And this is when in life or in dreams, (just like in the movie) things begin to get nasty.

I happen to be a Julie, it is not that I am going to invite my own drama’s protagonist to my car and drive us to our imminent deaths by jumping from a bridge by uncontrollably speeding. Neither am I going to traumatize some Sofia out there who still believes that love is possible while dancing. And I wont definitely wear those tied brown pants or the red strapless dress which will not suit me at all. But that one is me, a little more disturbed, a little more deranged quite more suicidal but me. I am not the, “Dreamt of”, exotic brunet but the blond (doesn’t matter how many “loreals” I wear to hide it). Not the savior, but the “fuck-buddy” I am therefore “the saddest girl to ever hold a martini” pero soy real