A Star Is Born: A review of some other asshole's review

We can have differences of opinion. Secretly we both know the winningest one, the one with the most weight in any argument, is mine. It stands to reason that the appraisal of the movie, A Star Is Born, should be no different.

Office talk on Monday’s is always the same; I pretend to be interested in their sports talk, and they pretend to give a shit about what I did with my kid over the weekend. It’s no-win situation. I need at least 1.5 cups of coffee before the desire to shoot myself in the face subsides. I’ve also learned that after 3 cups, that desire turns outward and becomes homicidal, so it’s a precarious balance. Learning is fun.

This Monday we got on the topic of MoviePass and how we wish it would lick our balls with its fucked-up restrictions. Fast forward a bit (because I don’t feel like writing a saga) and we’re discussing A Star Is Born. For those of you that live under a fucking rock or don’t have a girlfriend who has dragged you to see this yet, it’s the story of Lady Gaga…but before she became The Gaga. It’s her humble beginnings. For me, it was about her husband. Wanna know why? Of course you do! Nosy motherfuckers.

In this film her husband, played by Bradley Cooper, is a drug & alcohol addict. Naturally, I’m all in. I don’t really give a shit about Gaga anymore. I mean, sure, her story is compelling, and she can sing. I’ll give her that. But for me, the real story is the relationship with her husband and his struggle with addiction. Admittedly, there are parts of this film that are hard for me to watch. I identified with his character. I also wanted to scream at how poorly he snorted his drugs. How fuckin’ wasteful!! I guess if you’re filthy rich, you can coarse chop your dope not worry about dropping rocks in the carpet; must be nice – fucker.

My co-worker tells me that the movie isn’t believable, that’s its major flaw. He says to me that Bradley Cooper’s character would never have reacted to the events that took place in the way that he did. I’m trying not to ruin it for those of you gentlemen who still have plans to take your lady to see it in hopes of getting laid.

Here’s the thing: I’m an addict, you Richie Cunnigham, have never known the hurt of wanting anything more than the occasional soda that’s been stricken from your diet by your doctor. I take that back; there’s the time your wife wouldn’t put out for a whole 2 weeks because you swore in front of the kids and gambled the “date night” money on soccer bets. That must have been rough. So, don’t tell me that you know how an addict would act, or react after coming out of a rehabilitation facility. YOU don’t have a fucking clue. Please refrain from assuming you understand how anyone who has suffered addiction and sought treatment will react. YOU don’t.

His indignation irritated me, clearly. To toss a movie entirely on this one bias seemed really fucking stupid, especially considering he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. I didn’t think it was the best movie ever written, but I thought it was good. I certainly thought it was good enough to get a dude laid for taking his girl to see it and being the “sensitive type.” I cried like a little bitch.

You’re entitled to your opinion of this movie too, just know that mine is rooted in experience and therefore more valid. If you have experience and your opinion differs from mine, well…kindly keep that shit to yourself. No one asked you anyway.