Hey, Barbecutie

Vice Magazine has a sweet article wherein Miranda July, mostly delightful but occasionally cloying doyen of all things navel-gazing and brightly coloured, recounts everything she read in the course of a day, including the following:

While stopped at a red light, I read the Vista Theater marquee, Men Who Stare at Goats, and the names of each of the men in the movie. I have various thoughts about the male actors, most of them ranging from slightly to very critical. I have one thought about one man that is admiring.  

I’ve been trying to guess which of the cast she felt deserved which accolade:

George Clooney – very critical, because although everyone’s supposed to think he’s very charming and oh-so-dry-witted, he plays the same role in every film and his talent:success ratio is very unbalanced and it is so tiresome to hear everyone fawn relentlessly over him. He wasn’t even the best thing about ER.

Ewan McGregor – something faintly critical, because he’s not that successful in America. “Why is Ewan McGregor so famous when I’ve never seen him in any films?” See also: Jude Law, Clive Owen.

Kevin Spacey – moderately critical, because he makes some awful films (Pay It Forward? Come on!) and has an annoying face, but then he does stuff like Moon that makes everything seem okay until he does the sequel to K-Pax or something.

Jeff Bridges – Something admiring, because everyone likes Jeff Bridges. Perhaps “I must watch The Big Lebowski again”, or “He looks good with that moustache”.

I’m not sure I’m right.

Apropos of nothing, she has some pillowcases for sale in London’s ICA that I would punch you right in the face for.