The post you've all been waiting for:
I just broke down and saw Closer. Ended up sitting too close, so to speak, which made everyone look a bit chunky, even tiny Ms. Portman in her oft-Googled g-string. I was expecting the movie to be terrible, so it ended up seeming not bad at all. I also haven't watched television since winter vacation, so it was a bit like giving up desserts and then having a stale Twix--hit the spot, but wasn't the best thing ever. This was what I will take with me from this movie:
- Natalie Portman has a fabulous haircut in the film. I will let my hair return to its natural color, which is about what hers is in most of the movie, and my hair, too, will be fabulous.
- Clive Owen shirtless is better than Jude Law shirtless.
- Jude Law fully clothed is better than Clive Owen fully clothed.
- Julia Roberts should not be blonde.
- Debra Messing and Dermot Mulroney, in the preview for The Wedding Date, were better-looking than the whole Closer cast combined.
- Debra Messing has cool long red hair. I will keep my hair the fake color and let it grow long.
In other words, Closer moved me on many levels. Profound, dare I say challenging, stuff.
2 comments:
Phoebe,
I've been predicting this since I saw him in Gosford Park, but your reaction to Clive Owen shirt-less clinches it for me---Owen's going to be the next James Bond.
I hate that movie. Hate, hate, hate, hate. I can't remember seeing a worse film. I'll refrain from spoiling the end for those who will misguidedly go see it soon, but I was HYSTERICALLY laughing at the end. Up until about the last ten minutes, I thought it was just normal-bad, but, clearly, it was bad-bad.
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