THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, December 30, 1995 TAG: 9512300457
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Charlise Lyles
LENGTH: Medium: 70 lines
``All men are not dogs,'' sister-girlfriend Sherissa insisted as we stood in line the other evening to see ``Waiting to Exhale.''
The movie is based on the 1993 best-seller by Terry McMillan. It's the story of four African-American women and their funny, failed search for Mr. Right. But book sales suggest that ``Exhale's'' appeal transcends race.
The broader story is about women and what lengths of self-abuse we'll go to to get and keep a man, any man.
``A lot are dogs, though,'' I countered, pointing to Enid Waldholtz, the Utah congresswoman who claims her husband conned her into believing he was a millionaire. Now he's being investigated for check-kiting and bilking his own grandmother out of $600,000.''
``Definitely a dog,'' Sherissa nodded as the line inched forward. ``But I happen to believe old Enid set herself up. She let that guy make a fool of her because she wanted to win an election and, more than anything, she wanted a man.''
We plunked down our six bucks each, snatched up our tickets and hustled inside.
``She's just like other women who are willing to believe anything, overlook everything, put up with . . . ''
If the lights hadn't gone dim, Sherissa would've kept right on blabbing. In the darkness, the crowd was abuzz, eager to see the tensions of black male/female relationships brought to the big screen at last.
We swooned at the gorgeous sienna-toned men filmed against a backdrop of Phoenix sunsets, blazing blues, oranges and reds.
But we croaked at their arrogant, two-timing, lying, abusive, ugly ways.
``NOOoooo, girl! Don't let him treat you like that,'' one woman seated behind us yelled at the screen like she was talking to a friend.
``Yuck.'' We cringed at the men's grotesque sexual performances.
``Awwwwww,'' we sighed at tender moments, when one woman spends the night just holding a man whose wife is dying.
And, oh yes!
We unabashedly indulged in the joy of male-bashing - but just for a moment.
And we groaned disappointment at stereotypical portrayals of black women who are nothing like us: Their sole preoccupations being career and good sex - not necessarily in that order.
And black men. The movie makes no attempt to explain these characters' reckless, thoughtless, sometimes pathological behavior.
``I've dated too many men who have been kind and hard-working to believe this stuff,'' Sherissa whispered as one character kicks a drunken cocaine-head out of her life.
We nodded, indignant in the darkness.
I felt like shouting out, ``They aren't all like that - it just isn't that simple,'' but held my tongue.
And we ``uh-huhed'' at the movie's purest, and most deadly truth: ``It's amazing what can happen when you give a man control over your life.''
``Well,'' I said to Sherissa as the R-rated, expletive-ridden odyssey came to its pessimistic end, and we filed into the crowded aisles. ``Sure, we've met some nice guys. But if you ask me, that was pretty solid evidence that there are an awful lot of dogs out there.''
``Of course,'' said Sherissa, annoyed. ``But the problem isn't men who are dogs. It's women who let men treat them like dogs.''
Sherissa was dying to continue the conversation over coffee.
``Sorry, sister-girl,'' I said. ``Gotta go. Can't be late for my date. He might be Mr. Right.'' by CNB