In these trying times of political strife, of red versus blue, of noodle-armed vegan pit-hair wavers versus mullety gap-toothed hog-stranglers, sometimes we need to chill out, remember to put down our kindles and pitchforks, and just love each other.
Paradise Recovered (dir. Storme Wood) remembers. It’s a charming little indie flick from the heartland about a suuuuuuuuper-Bibley girl who believes that eating marshmallows and watching even the G-est of movies will allow actual-factual demons to infiltrate her brain and tear her away from livin’ the sweet Jesus life. She is brain-washed-ish by a TV evangelist and her boss/minister/father-figure (low-budget evil Tom Hanks) into being a nannyslaveprisioner at crazy Tom Hank’s house. He also arranges a marriage for her to his Bible college son, who is actually also kinda evil.
Bibella decides to spice up her hum-drum life by getting a job at the health food store where she meets the smug philosophy student manager and instantly sparks FLY! After Philosophy guy “She’s All That”‘s Biblette with lipstick and low-cut tank tops, they, as unlikely as it may be, fall in love even though he has utter contempt for her deepest beleifs and she beleives he will spend eternity skinny-dipping in a lake of fire. But at least she’s hot now.
It’s low budget. There are weird things like a comic-releif roommate who I’m guessing is normally a straight-up clown in real life, and a guy who talks in his best Bill Clinton immitation for all of his lines (the preacher-dad of smug Romeo). BUT, and I say BUT, this movie was fun and it warmed the cockles of my fridgid little prejudiced-against-both-smug-college-kids-and-religious-fanatics heart. Seriously. The characters were likeable and human, the issues were complex and compelling, and there was a nice story development which is dandy for people who like their heads not to explode because of retarded monkey scribble writing.
As I left the theater, I was left with a sense of understanding and divine grace. I was brimming with a deep love for my fellow man and hope for the future of what seems so often like a divided world. …Then some little punk squeaked out a terrible attempt to pick me up and I was once again left with familiar old ire.