If you are perhaps familiar with my other lesser but longer running blog, you may have read before that I have special warmth for O, the Magazine of Oprah, because it isn’t crafted with the intent of working you into a lather of shame that can only be fixed by buying bronzer or very fancy underwear or heels so high they will languish in your closet eternally. O has a multi-page book section. Do you know how many other magazines have that for womens? ONE. Two magazines for women that acknowledge WOMEN CAN READ. I read O and I get to the end and I do not feel that weird shallow feeling that is intense and grabby and worried about the outcome of the “What Your Underwear Drawer Says About You” quiz like I do reading other women’s glossy mags. You know?

Bridesmaids is like that, I got to the end and I was like “ahhh, finally”. Real girl friendship and courage! When was the last time that was on screen? Natty Gann and her dog do not count (google it!). I cried when the girls fought it out and when they made up. Have you ever had to have that talk with your best friend? My friend JJ, who was my best friend for a long time and is now dead, when we were young ladies in our fun band together and inseparable, I remember being a total prick to this guy she was very litely dating, –we were at some show and I was getting so stampy and rude like “are we done yet? do you really need to spend all night talking to a guy that douchey?” all judgemental and like a real unsupportive and jealous baby and she took me out in the parking lot and was like “Listen to me! You need to stop acting like such a bitch because you have nothing to worry about! He’s just some dumb guy that I am going to go on some dates with or sleep with. You are my best girl friend! You will always be more important than any guy! I love you!.” I was so embarrassed and also cried with relief. And this movie is just like that, except super duper funny all the time.

I have many favorite parts, though I really love that they made America’s imaginary boyfriend, Jon Hamm, be the prototypical hot dude that can’t fuck. And so tan, so tan, and such great face-acting. And when he grabs Kristen Wiigs boob and just like paws it like he’s trying to squish it back into her chest somehow , while saying “but can he do this?” and doing the gnarliest-perfect stud confidence smirk, the theatre filled with the knowing guffah of women and it was a moment. A universal moment of lady experience, shared, on the big screen.

Also, the part where Kristen Wiig drives topless is the best car scene in a comedy since the car chase/rescue in Due Date.