I saw the movie Hitch on television the other night. The movie came out in 2005, so I'm sure that it has been "done" to death by the blogroll already. I probably can't compete with their insights, but I'll give it a go.
Will Smith (I will use the actors' names), the professional PUA coach, brags to his married friend Michael Rapaport about his "sweaty" and "varied" sex life. But when Jeffrey Donovan seeks to procure his services to help him obtain what he frankly admits will be a one night stand, Smith sniffs, "Sorry, I only help guys who like women." At face value, this is startling hypocrisy. Smith's character is not exactly conspicuous in his monogamy; as the consummate babehound, he does not aspire to marriage or even an LTR. How Smith supposedly carves a moral distinction between his behavior and Donovan's is a mystery, I don't know. But I'm probably using the wrong hermeneutic; more than likely, the movie is shrinking back from its own logic and wants to assure feminist viewers that, really, Smith only uses his power to do good rather than evil. For instance, the movie never shows us the downside of what must be his numerous non-LTRs.
Notwithstanding the "variety" of his own personal experience, Smith is shown coaching men in wooing the "girl of their dreams," and in so doing makes a claim for "game" that no real-life PUA coach ever makes. To the extent that I understand it, one of the core principles of PUA technique is developing a mental state in which no one woman becomes an object of fixation. I believe they call it an "attitude of abundance" or something. And more practically, while PUAs claim to help attract women in general, they acknowledge that the odds that even the best practitioners of game will be able to persuade any particular woman to go home with them are still pretty low.
Having said all that, the tactical advice that Smith dispenses is still pretty good, especially how to cultivate an air of "alphaness": show dominance, stand up straight, don't let your mouth hang open, don't talk too fast, have a few set-piece conversation plays and act aloof. (But no requirement to actually be aloof, as I pointed out earlier.) These aspects of the film ought to be required viewing for every nerdy high school student who moons* helplessly over women (like, um . . . Φ, for instance).
Readers: I'd like to know your thoughts on the movie. Please feel free to post links to your own reviews in the comments so I don't have to search your blogs individually.
* Our office has a bunch of high school students, a number of them women, working as summer interns in fairly cramped conditions. So I overhear things. Like, for instance, one young lady complaining to another about a mutual friend from high school: "He's always staring at me! I'll be talking to somebody else, and when I happen to glance around, I'll catch him watching me." On the one hand, I totally get this behavior. Our eyes are naturally drawn towards beautiful things. We almost definitionally take pleasure in looking at them. But when that thing is a female, that female is very likely to be creeped out by your stare. (Trust me: I've creeped out plenty of women doing exactly this.) And if she catches you, don't look away; that only makes you look furtive and amplifies the creep factor. You may as well stare her down that that point. But better yet, if you want to look at a beautiful girl, go start a conversation with her. I know it's scary, but if you don't have an agenda other than an excuse to look at her, then you have a lot less pressure than if you are running game. Also, once you've started the conversation, maintain eye contact. This, too, is difficult; hell, I'm 41, and it still takes a supreme act of will not to study my own shoelaces. But look at it this way: you've already paid for the conversation by overcoming your fear of starting it, so don't throw away the visual pleasure of looking into her eyes.