(Ed. Note: The following article contains mild spoilers, for those of you whose commenter fingers are already twitching with anticipation.)
Last week, as per Christmas tradition, Hollywood released a slew of the year’s best films to both be considered for the 2009 Academy Awards, as well as to rake in the last $10 left in our nearly rabbit-eared pockets. And as part of my own Christmas tradition (which you can read more about here), I slapped on my best Juicy tracksuit (you know the one!) and headed to the movie theater to catch an evening screening of the latest David Fincher opus The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.
Benny Butty (as I — an idiot — prefer to call it) is the charming tale of a boy born old, who grows physically younger as the years pass and his brain soaks heavy with wisdom and life lessons. Now, it should be noted that Benjy Butts is played by none other than Brad Pitt, a man whose real life visage has also shed layers of those pesky “age lines” as the years have passed.
The movie is nothing short of charming, if not an hour too long. The digital effects which render a “young” Benjamin into a tiny old man are riveting, and the supporting cast easily makes up for Brad Pitt’s lack of charisma. (Though Cate Blanchett’s over-articulated American accent can make one want to, how do you say, slap a bitch? She makes Kate Winslet in Titanic sound like Foghorn Leghorn.)
But let’s face it, ladies, there is a very clear part of the film that we were all looking forward to. Yes, the halfway point, when the old man CGI make-up melted off to reveal the one and only face of Pitt, which never fails to giddify. It seemed that half the seats in the theater emptied the moment that infamous motorcycle shot appeared, as the ladies in the crowd clear melted to the floor. And while these sizzling hot moments were some of the highlights of the movie, I did take issue with one of the director’s choices: That of Benjamin Button’s mid-life wardrobe.
See, as an elderly man-child growing up in the middle of a nursing home, Benjamin dressed his face age — i.e. like a miniature little old man. Tiny pants, button downs, wingtip shoes and adorable suspenders. About an hour and a half later, Benjamin is now in his mid to late 40s, perhaps even older. And even though he has fallen into a bit of button money, the transformation from old man to SIZZLING F**KING HOT BRAD PITT is a bit jarring, thanks in large part to his new wardrobe.
We’re talking GQ CENTERFOLD MATERIAL here people. Even though it’s the 1960s, he is a walking Prada/Gucci ad. Every suit cut to perfection, trademark Pitt Porkpie Hat cocked just so. It’s the kind of stuff that would be worn by a billionaire gay playboy on the Amalfi coast in the year 2009. It is NOT what a fashion backward face-morphing mute would choose to wear in New Orleans. For authenticity’s sake, they should have suited Pitt up in some patchwork overalls, a dirty white tee (or no tee, just free-nipplin’ it), chewin’ on a piece of straw while spitting on his own shoes. He STILL would have looked amazing!
This being said: Thank you, David Fincher and Brad Pitt, for throwing common sense to the wind and dressing up Brad Pitt in the finest threads modern haute couture has to offer. Historically accurate? Not really. Vaginally accurate? Definitely. Let me know what you guys thought of the film in the comments.
As a side note, I also caught Fincher’s 2007 movie Zodiac on cable this weekend, and it’s pretty much incredible. But please, do not do what I did and watch it at 4 am. You will baaaziguhlly never sleep again.
