By Chris Wisniewski and Farihah Zaman
On Mondays, two Reverse Shotters wipe the weekend from their bleary eyes and engage in a postmortem on the multiplex trash (good or bad) they took in.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Hollywood film made today starring women over 30 in leading roles must feature a scene in which one of those women poops herself. Kristin Davis suffered the indignation in Sex and the City, the last major American studio movie marketed to female audiences that wasn’t a straight-up rom-com (let’s just pretend the sequel never happened). In the Kristen Wiig vehicle Bridesmaids, it’s Maya Rudolph’s turn to have food-poisoning–induced diarrhea, and unlike the Sex-crement, a mildly amusing excuse for a pun (she went to “Poo-keepsie”, get it? It’s like Poughkeepsie but with poo), Rudolph’s is some epic shit. Gut-bustingly epic.
There’s already been plenty of ink spilled over the more scatalogical aspects of Bridesmaids, which Wiig co-wrote with Annie Mumolo. In its most hilarious laugh-out-loud scenes—it has at least two or three raucous extended sequences—the film out-grosses most man-centric gross-out comedies. What’s most surprising about Bridesmaids, though, is that it’s a real movie. Continue reading.