"Anyone who's seen Mean Girls knows what a fierce comic actress she is," Lambert continues, in a well-argued essay lamenting the loss of the Hollywood "comedy of equals."

The Screwball Comedies of the thirties and forties really were a Golden Age of well-matched onscreen couples. Film critics like A.O. Scott and Anthony Lane, and David Denby are not just whistling Dixie when they claim that it was better back then...Women remain a much underserved audience and we deserve much better than How To Lose A Guy Wearing 27 Dresses. I'm just thankful the discussions have finally been opened back up. There are many millions of different modes for being male and female in the modern age. Maybe someday soon we'll get to see some romantic comedies that genuinely reflect that. Lord knows Woody Allen's not gonna make them.

And seriously? What. Happened. In the thirties, tough dames like Rosalind Russell sparred with Cary Grant His Girl Friday while Katharine Hepburn and Cary duked it out in Bringing Up Baby and the Philadelphia Story. One could argue that these films of male and female equals disappeared during the late 40s in the post WWII push to get women back into the kitchen, but uh, it's been 60 years since then.

I imagine film execs think that a "comedy of equals" couldn't sell tickets and so give us movies about equally repellent personalities like that forthcoming Cameron Diaz/ Ashton Kutcher shitshow What Happens In Vegas. Maybe part of the problem is that movie actresses are now solely seen as the sum of their parts (the New Yorker's Anthony Lane on on Tina Fey: "She hasn't yet made up her mind how funny her body is meant to be. She isn't big enough to make a joke of her ripeness, like Bette Midler, but she's no Lily Tomlin, either."). Fingers crossed that Tina Fey and Diablo Cody's successes can help change all that, but it's going to take time.

In Which A Comedy Of Equals Beats A Bromance Every Time [This Recording]
Weekend Results [Box Office Mojo]
Anthony Lane Thinks Tina Fey Is Fat, But Not Fat Enough To Be Funny [Emily Magazine]

Earlier: Baby Mama Is Fertile Ground For Mixed Feelings From Reviewers
Does The Female "Buddy" Movie Exist?

So, I went to this thing with Anna. I'm a confirmed bachelorette, and although Anna is engaged, she's forgoing the big wedding thing in favor of eloping. Needless to say, we walked in there a leetle bit biased, which didn't help matters when the first thing I set my eyes on was this NYC trash can, tastefully lined with linen.

I mean, come on. Was it really that much of an eyesore? On the other hand, I wonder if it was some kind of subliminal message like, "See, we can turn trash into class. Let us do that to you!"

Speaking of trash, when I went into the bathroom, I saw this:

Yeah, that's period blood, folks. At least whomever it was won't be having to shop in the maternity section for her white dress.

Okay, so maybe it was the free booze and food, but I sorta loved the whole thing. I was super hungry, and they had these miniburgers and little lobster cups and some kind of cured meat roll. At one point, when I was at one of the cake tasting stations, shoveling a slice of chocolate and strawberry heaven into my mouth, I dropped a chunk on the table. I picked it up, with every intention of putting it in my mouth, but the woman working the booth kinda gave me a look like, "Please don't," so I handed it over to her and she disposed of it.

So here's what struck me most about the whole event: On one side of the room, there were services offering pre-wedding diet plans and food delivery services so that brides can, as the David Kirsch brochure proclaimed,"feel like the most beautiful woman in the room". On the other side, there were catering companies. The diet tables were empty. Everyone was mobbing the the lobster cup lady. (She also had green gazpacho.)

At one table, a group of women were giving out promotional T-shirts and boxers for whatever service they provide. [Wedding dress design. -Ed.] We tried to get one, but they only had XS available. It turns out that wedding showcases are just as confusing when it comes to the expectations of body image as, well, anything else in life, really. All the dresses on the racks were size 0 as well.

This was kinda awesome. They had free massages:

And they had this photo booth there, as an idea of something brides can rent for their receptions:

The goodie bag was sick, full of all kinds of beauty products from Redken and Crabtree & Evelyn, a cake server from Oneida, a bottle opener that looked like a shoe, lots of gift certificates, and a free session of ballroom dancing lessons.

The most ridiculous person we talked to had to be the woman from Disney's Couture Wedding Collection, a destination wedding service provided by Disney for which they put together cookie-cutter wedding packages at one of their Florida resorts. The package includes decorations, food, and rental of the space. It does not include the price of a dress, or anyone's hotel rooms. (The Disney rep also made no mention of booze, so it's probably an add-on.) The starting price for a destination wedding for you and 50 friends? $75,000. I think I deserved a goddamn medal for not laughing in that lady's face right there.

So, did going to the Weddings Showcase change my mind about having a big special day of my own? I mean, I doubt I'll ever find that kind of money to spend on getting my idiot friends drunk for one night. (Especially when Jell-O shots with Georgi vodka tend to do the trick quite well.) But my motto in life is never say never, because I always said I'd never have anal sex, and well, now sometimes I do. So maybe one day, I'll suddenly decide I want to spend my life with one person and have a big open bar party to celebrate that. Hey, it couldn't hurt much more than getting fucked in the ass.