Movies take on a certain amount of importance in the humid, sticky, gross months of summer. They’re your ticket to another world, a world of magic and dreams: a gigantic room blasting air conditioning.

And dear me, this summer of terrible movies just means that the world of air conditioning, of thinking straight, of not feeling like a humid blob is denied to me. Thanks movies! Since I hadn’t seen Bridesmaids when it came out, I got to see it last week. Great, wonderful, A-number-one movie that you can see when it’s 100 degrees outside. And it was really wonderful to see a movie about a lady fuck-up that had a lot of emotional truth (people getting married always throws your life into sharp relief, doesn’t it?) even if the movie’s actual structure was sloppy and uninspired.

But, god, if I had seen Bridesmaids the week it came out, since it was my social obligation as a woman? Then I would have to choose between The Hangover 2 (on four screens), Kung Fu Panda 2, Pirates of the Caribbean 4, X Men: Mocking My Life… ugh. It was bad. Seeing movies during the summer is more of a mercenary act. There are ones that look passable enough for air conditioning’s sake - Super 8, Horrible Bosses, Tree of Life (playing in a tiny, crappy theater in two weeks), Midnight in Paris (I guess, if I have to, but, you know, fuck Woody Allen), Beginners (doesn’t come out until July, and I desperately want to see it) - and you have to wait until the weather demands it. You can’t use up all your chances to hide from the heat in the movie theater, because then you’re stuck seeing Green Lantern or Larry Crowne. And that’s just not treating yourself well.