She must kick ass.Allow me to elucidate the backstory of this revelation. Finally, after hearing for years what a fantastic movie it is, last night I watched The Shining. I could address the plot made ludicrous by the completely deus ex machina, but that's just to be expected from a Steven King story. I could rant about the score that made me want to either beat the television into a scattered pile of junk with my bare hands or cut my own ears off, but that's what made Stanley Kubrick the director he was. So I don't appreciate King or Kubrick. Let's just accept that as given and move on to the meat of my complaints.
I hate hate hate useless women. By "useless women" I mean the classic model of the damsel in distress. An example from The Shining: Jack finally loses it completely and is slowly coming up the stairs toward his wife. He's unarmed and she has the higher ground and a baseball bat. She's swinging the bat like she's not used to having arms at all, let alone holding a bat. Somehow she manages to whack his hand, and by sheer luck, his head. If he hadn't fallen down the stairs, all she would have accomplished was pissing him off. Now I can understand that she's panicked, confused, terrified and presumably in love with this man. However, I cannot understand how all of that overrides self-preservation and more importantly, maternal instinct. I don't expect every woman put into a bad situation to morph into Milla Jovovich and start slaying zombies like she was born with a machete in her hand, but I will accept no less from my dream girl.
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