This is a movie I'd never seen in its entirety before. I remembered Kathy Bates yelling "Towanda!" and I remembered Chris O'Donnell getting hit by a train but that was it, and I gotta be honest, I wasn't entirely sure I wasn't remembering the train bit from The Man in the Moon but Google tells me that was Jeremy London and I'm pretty sure he died in a thresher accident, not getting hit by a train. Oh, early-'90s young Hollywood pretty boys. You were being killed off via accidents in the rural South left and right.
I was way too young to understand "Towanda!" at the time the movie came out. I'm happy to report that I am now of an age where Towanda means something to me, which essentially means I'm old. I seem to be more in touch with my reproductive system than Kathy Bates is in movie, though, so hey, progress.
This one gets a 73% over at Rotten Tomatoes, which makes me happy. It's a "chick flick" but it's an actual good movie, based on a novel by the always-delightful Fannie Flagg, who I just love to pieces. She's the kind of Southern I wish the whole South was like.
Jessica Tandy made me cry. I'm a sucker, what can I say? I regularly get teary at the NBC Nightly News, so maybe this wasn't a Herculean feat for the deceased Ms. Tandy, but she also made me think about my own life, which Brian Williams rarely does beyond my desperate need for him to report when I die and refer to me as selfless. That's, like, my #1 life goal.
It's a good movie. I liked it. This is the third movie in a row I liked, but I also know that if I really hate a movie I likely won't watch it all the way through and won't report on it here. I'm like that.
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