Sunday, May 2, 2010

It Needs to Be Said --

-- and though I've racked my brains, I can think of no delicate way to say it: Erin Brockovich has huge breasts, and Julia Roberts doesn't. I wouldn't see any need to mention it except that in the movie in which Roberts portrays Brockovich,Roberts imitates Brockovich in certain very deliberate ways which draw particular attention to the fact that she's imitating a woman who's shaped differently.

I love Julia Roberts' work. I saw Pretty Womanquite a few times before it began to dawn on me that it's quite a mediocre movie: it was the first time I'd seen Roberts, and that's how dazzled I was. I think she's a talented, versatile actress, and, without a doubt, stunningly beautiful. I have no problem with Roberts' having won the Best Actress Oscar for Erin Brockovich. I do however have one specific problem with the way she played the role, and it has to do with the boobies:

The real-life Erin Brockovich is a brassy, sassy, sexy woman from a blue-collar background who seems very comfortable with her curvy physique, and has often worn clothing which accentuates those curves, and which in particular proudly displays her breathtaking, stupendously ample bosom.

Roberts, when portraying Brockovich, gave a convincing impression of a brassy, sassy, sexy woman from a blue-collar background. So far so good. But she dresses, acts and talks as if she, like Brockovich, had melons. Gazongas. But she does not. She has peaches, at most. And so the same sorts of clothes which on Brockovich celebrate a glorious abundance, on Roberts just look a little odd. They focus the gaze upon that which is not there. They proudly trumpet an absent abundance.

Roberts, as Brockovich, says things which would've made sense if the real Brockovich had said them. For example, Albert Finney, Julia/Erin's lawyer boss in the movie, is discussing with her a potential source of information vital to their big case. Julia/Erin says not to worry, she'll get the information they need, Finney asks how, and Julia/Erin says frankly, "They're called breasts," a line which, like the clothes, would've made sense with the real Erin, but doesn't make sense with Julia.

I can't be the only one who's noticed this.

There's nothing at all wrong with Julia Robert's physique. As I've said, she is ever so lovely. She could charm information from a witness, sure she could. She could charm the stars from the sky, she could charm a roaring river from a desert. But different proportions just naturally call for different presentations. This bra:

looks fine on a Porsche 911. But on a Ford Focus it would just look silly.


  1. Hey Steven,

    I'm the same JFC as on HuffPost. Do you have an email you'd like to share? I'd like to talk about a certain brilliant satirist, your HuffPost hero.


  2. Sorry, I don't put my email address on the blog.