Friday, August 29

Lesson learned

Namely: Trust your instincts. Le Divorce was le crap. I haven't been that tempted to walk out on a movie in a long time. I didn't exactly have high expectations, as Kate Hudson hasn't been good in a movie since Almost Famous, but I thought it would at least be non-offensive fluff for a summer afternoon. Alas, no. When the Naomi Watts' character just shrugged off her suicide attempt as a "bad patch" (mind you, she was 7-8 months pregnant), I wanted to throw things at the screen. I didn't think it could get worse until the vomit-inducing angles and shifting perspectives of the Eiffel Tower scene proved me oh, so terribly wrong.

I'm supposed to hit American Wedding tomorrow (gotta catch up for time lost during vacation). My faith in summer movies is steadily being eroded. F-ing Gigli couldn't have been worse than this tripe. Because J-Lo's ass could have out-acted this shit. Hell, Ben's poufy fucking hair could have out-acted this drivel.

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