One of the critic reviews of this "movie" described it as bland. And it is. It is bland, predictable and shallow.
I really love most films I see, and hence my use of the term "movie" to describe this one. I'm not talking about semantics, that's not it. I'm talking about perceptions.
A long time ago (well, okay, the nineties then) there existed a huge divide between art house films and popular films. The former being beautiful, well acted, intelligent and important, and the latter, well, was not. I subscribed to this philosophy quite strongly. Not because I was a dedicated follower of fashion, but because it appealed to my 20-something mind at the time.
Then, towards the end of the millennium, I discovered the absolute appeal of the movie house, any movie house. I began to go to the cinema at least once a week, perhaps watching dvds at other times too. My then-boyfriend (now husband) and I watched everything.
And this is the problem with this movie. It has taken me right back to the reason for the divide. It is a load of predictable, pointless crap. Improbable at times and not all that much fun.
I was expecting art house, I was delivered discount ticket.
