ATTACK OF THE 50' MELANIE GRIFFITH
By Carrington Vanston - March 10, 2004
http://www.carringtonvanston.net/archives/50_foot_melanie

I'd heard about a romantic comedy called Milk & Money. The plot synopsis made it sound quirky and fun. So while I was at a DVD shop I frequent I added it to the list of movies I was ordering. I didn't know anything else about the movie except the basic plot, but I was in an impulsive shopping mood.

I'd heard about a romantic comedy called Milk & Money. The plot synopsis made it sound quirky and fun. So while I was at a DVD shop I frequent I added it to the list of movies I was ordering. I didn't know anything else about the movie except the basic plot, but I was in an impulsive shopping mood.

The film ordering process went something like this:

> "Oh, and I'd like the film Milk & Money."

> "Milk Money, okay."

> "No, not Milk Money. Not that terrible Melanie Griffith film. I want the movie Milk AND Money."

> "Oh, right. No problem."

Within a couple of days, I was back at the shop picking up my order...but they'd brought in Milk Money instead. I explained that it was the wrong film:

> "This is the wrong film. I wanted the movie Milk & Money."

> "That is Milk Money."

> "Right. This is Milk Money. I want the movie Milk AND Money."

> "Oh, right. No problem."

The next week I was back to pick it up. It's about an hour's drive up to this store, but the prices are amazing so I'm up there every week anyway. But in the meantime, I'd decided to look up more about this film because I still didn't know anything much about this thing I was buying. Its IMDB rating was only 5.1 out of 10...not a good sign. Not a good sign at all. In fact, if it was a sign it would be something like "stop" or "do not enter" or maybe "hey Carrington, don't order that movie."

But the synopsis was quirky and I'd already gone through a hassle to order it, so I let the order stand. When I went to pick it up, the conversation went something like this:

> "Here's your movie."

> "This is Milk Money."

> "Right."

At this point, I didn't say anything so you have to imagine my facial expression instead. It was a pretty good one.

Eventually she asked:

> "So this isn't the movie you want?"

> "No. I don't want Milk Money. I don't want
> a Melanie Griffith movie. Nobody ever wants a
> Melanie Griffith movie. Well, except for Cecil B.
> DeMented. Oh, and I guess RKO 281. But nothing else.
> Not Working Girl. Not Bonfire Of The Vanities.
> Not...oh, I guess Cherry 2000 is a classic. But
> nothing else. Certainly not Milk Money. Never
> Milk Money. I wanted Milk AND Money."

> The clerk looked the order up on the computer.
> Typing typing typing. It took her ages.

> "So, you didn't order this?" she asked, still typing.
> "The computer thinks you did."

> I resisted explaining that the computer was not
> sentient. I'm calm like that.

> "No, I didn't order it. I want Milk & Money,
> a different movie. Milk AND Money."

> "I can order that for you."

Remember that expression I'd made? I gave her a variant with just a hint of twitch.

> "Can you really order it?" I ask.

> "Of course."

> "No, check the computer. It's called Milk AND Money,
> not Milk Money. It's from 1997, not 1994. It does
> NOT have Melanie Griffith in it. It doesn't even have
> a little bit of Melanie Griffith in it. The name of the
> movie I want is: Milk. And. Money. Three words.
> Milkandmoney."

> "Oh, right. No problem."

> Twitch twitch.

The next week I was back once again to pick it up. But in the meantime, I found out even more about the movie. It might not have had Melanie Griffith in it, but it did have Calista Flockhart. Was that a trade up or down? Who knows?

And it didn't star Calista Flockhart, even though it was her bony mug on the cover. Nope, this was one of those films with a later-famous actor in a minor role, so the movie was dug up and released on a slapped together DVD to piggyback on her fame.

But while I'd never heard of any of the leads in the film, it also had Peter Boyle and Olympia Dukakis in it so I figured it couldn't be that bad. The other famous actor in it was Robert Vaughn, but he acts for food. The rest of the cast was unknown to me, but I love indie films and won't fault a movie for having beginners in it.

In the end, I decided to let my order stand because I'm obstinate and I'd already gone through too much to try to get my hands on this film that I didn't even want to see any more. When I went to pick it up, the conversation went something like this:

> "Here are your movies," said the clerk.

> She reached back to the customer holds shelf and
> pulled a little pile of movies strapped together
> with an elastic band. Tucked under the elastic band
> was a scrap of paper with my name on it. Well, almost
> my name. They then (and now) had my first and last
> names mixed up so it said "Mr. Carrington." I lifted
> the DVDs off the stack one by one, revealing in order:
> Working Girl; Bonfire Of The Vanities; Cecil B.
> DeMented; RKO 281; and Milk Money.

I would like to point out that I did not at this time kill everyone in the store.

> "I didn't order these."

> "Which one?"

> "Any of them. All of them. I did not order this
> Melanie Griffith surprise pack. Besides, you already
> sold me Cecil B. DeMented months ago."

> The clerk took away the Cecil B. DeMented box. She
> wrapped it up in the same elastic band, tucked the same
> Mr. Carrington note under the band, and put it back on
> the shelf in the same place. I suspected I'd see that
> movie again.

> "And this last one. This is Milk Money."

> "Right."

I might have imagined it, but I swear the clerk almost laughed when she said that.

> "I didn't order this movie."

> "The computer thinks you did."

> "No it doesn't. If your computer could think, it
> wouldn't keep ordering the same wrong movie over and
> over. Unless it can think and for some reason
> it hates me. Is that it? Is that what you're saying?
> Are you saying your computer is alive and it's out to
> get me? Is it? Is that what you're saying? ARE YOU
> TELLING ME TO BE AFRAID OF YOUR COMPUTER?"

Now it was her turn to have a special expression.

> "So...this isn't the movie you wanted?"

> "No, I wanted a movie called Milk & Money.
> Note the ampersand between the word Milk and the
> word Money. It's Milk AND Money. There's an and.
> An and. Andandandandand. It's from 1997. It's a
> romantic comedy. It's about a guy who blows up a
> video store using a bomb shaped like Melanie Griffith."

> "Oh, right. No problem."

> "No! Don't order it. Don't order anything."

> "You want me to cancel the other movie too?"

> "What other movie?"

> "Cherry 2000."

> "I, uh...damn. No, I'll take that one. But don't
> order anything else."

I left the shop, defeated and deflated but hell bent on getting that awful sounding Milk & Money movie for spite if nothing else.

I ordered it on Amazon.ca (the tiny Canadian branch of Amazon.com that operates out of a basement apartment) which informed me it "Usually ships within 3 to 5 weeks." Okay. Fine. I'd wait. At least this time I knew the right movie got ordered.

Almost TWO MONTHS later, Amazon.ca told me it couldn't fill my order. It didn't give a reason. I assumed their computer "thought" I should shop elsewhere.

So I checked Amazon.com. They said it'd ship in 24 hours, plus outrageously high shipping costs to get it into Canada (plus I'd get nailed with duty costs when it crossed the border). But Amazon.com poured on the sales pressure with the phrase "Only 1 left in stock--order soon" in red letters. I'd come this for so how could I resist? I couldn't, that's how.

That's when I noticed they'd had one of those "better together" suggestions where you can buy a pair of related DVDs for the exact same price as ordering them separately. (Did you think it was a discount? Nope--check it out next time and see.) And what was their suggested bonus movie?

Milk Money.

I bet their computer "thought" that was pretty damn funny. I shook my head and ordered Milk & Money from Amazon.com. And no, I didn't take the Better Together offer.

I looked forward to my movie shipping "in 24 hours."

Eight days later (that's 192 hours to me, but maybe Amazon.com's servers are on a planet with a different spin speed) I got a note from Amazon.com telling me they couldn't fill my order. At least they, unlike Amazon.ca, were willing to give me a reason. The reason was that the product was available from Amazon.ca and so I should order from them instead.

I would like to point out that I did not at this time kill everyone in the world.

What I did instead was give up. I just resigned myself to never seeing the crappy film I didn't want to see anyway. Which of course means I found it. Here's how:

A couple of days ago I noticed that the big Sam The Record Man store in downtown Toronto had started selling DVDs again. Their prices were notably higher than everyone else's, including the shops surrounding them, but they had a good selection of horror and sci-fi movies. They also had their movies divided up by genre, which made for easier browsing.

And while I was browsing, I was surprised to see they had Milk & Money sitting on a shelf--right there in front of me like some grainy, rectangular Calista Flockhart mirage. They wanted $30 for it, but at this point they really could have asked whatever price they wanted and I was going to buy it.

So I bought the movie and I rushed home. Huzzah! Victory! And huzzah again! I'd finally gotten my hands on the damn movie I'd tried so hard to buy for so very long. I would finally be able to watch this quirky, offbeat romantic comedy made by a first time writer/director and starring a plucky group of unknown actors.

And you know what?

It sucks.

Carrington Vanston
carrington@carringtonvanston.net

[This article is released to the public domain.]