SelfAbsorbed.ME : ‘It’s Your Life, We Just Write it Funnier’

I was recently working on a friend’s big student film set when Matilda came up. No, not Heath Ledger’s daughter, but the genius 1996 kid’s movie starring Maura Wilson and Danny DeVito. It turns out that just about everyone on the set (and I will presume everyone my age) loves this movie.

In fact, over the course of the shoot, I began to get obsessed with it and was seeing parallels everywhere. “Oh man, this scene in the garage reminds me of that part in Matilda where she glues her dad’s hat to his head!” or “This chocolate cake is just like in Matilda where that fat kid had to eat in front of the whole school!” or “Oh man, look at this map! Matilda had maps in it, right?” or, “God fucking dammit I wish I was Matilda!”

And by the way, have you ever noticed how everything Roald Dahl touches turns to friggin’ gold? Let me list just a few of the ways in which this man is a genius: James and the Giant Peach, Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (the original, not that neon colored excrement Tim Burton churned out so that Helena Bonham Carter would have a job), and The Witches (you know you remember that shit, don’t try to deny it.)

So in my frenzied love and admiration of a deceased British author, I realized that Matilda is just like real life, and by studying the film closely, we can all learn a thing or two about how to handle everyday situations. This will be my new weekly feature: “What Would Matilda Do?” 

Situation: You’ve gone to the grocery store and bought a lot more than you had originally intended. The weight of ten cans of Slim-Fast, two weeks supply of Ellio’s frozen pizza, and a 10lb bag of Iams Adult cat food are more than those flimsy plastic bags can handle. On top of it all, the pristine Brooklyn sidewalks are covered in slush and rogue patches of ice disguised as puddles, and if you hazard just one wrong step, you’ll be eating curb just like that dingo ate your baby.

Solution, as Matilda would’ve done: First of all, look adorable. Put on some patent leather mary-janes, and a dress with some kind of frill or lace detail. Next, use your intense brain power to muster your magic telekenisis abilities, and freeze yourself and your falling bags mid-air so you don’t faceplant into mushy week-old dog diarrhea. Once you’ve had a chance to right yourself against the pull of gravity, swish your finger around to get those grocery bags up around shoulder-level.

Now, cause a passing homie’s car that’s blasting some mad Soulja Boy to play some fun yet innocent music (may I suggest something along the lines of “Build Me Up Buttercup”?) to which you can skip down the street, happily back on track singing and whistling tra lalala la…as the car-driving homie is surprised and confused and utters an abbreviated, “Hey! What the…!” and is later shot down by gang-members for listening to such pussy music on their turf. Don’t forget to stop at the public library on your way, and once you get home, display your superior intellect to your family by humiliating them in some way, by, oh, I don’t know, causing them to eat the family cat without knowing it. That’ll teach ‘em…