Don’t Tell Mama

I think the marketing failure around Jennifer's Body is an enormous part of what makes it such a brilliant master class film. You market this film with these male gazey shots of the current Hollywood sex symbol, you make it seem like a pseudo lesbian soft core porno, you then bring all these men who just want to goon to Megan Fox into the theatre. You sit them down. They're ready to watch the extended cut of her scene in bad boys. And instead you subject them to what rape feels like for women. You force these misogynistic straight men who came to the theater to get their rocks off to watch Megan Fox get shoved into the back of a van, taken to a remote location, and ritualistically sacrificed in a way where any idiot can tell it's a metaphor for sexual assault but which no one would find sexy, and then you make them watch her go to her best friend's house and throw up black bile all over the place. You make her gross and unsexy and in pain. And then you make it gay for real in a way that straight men have a hard time comprehending let alone fetishizing.

That wasn’t a joke. I aimed my estimate high and then added some.