green_amber: (me new hair)
Enormous excitement: after about a year, two false deliveries and lots of angst , I have ordered (yet another) new cooker !!!! which might fit the kitchen this time!!!

In still more scintillation, I am now contemplating going to Chavland Matalan and buying a small filing cabinet. Or going for a swim. Or getting a new boiler. Or, inspired by [ profile] flickgc and [ profile] drplokta, going down the canal to check out my own cygnets. Or even, conceivably, making strawbery mascarpone lo fat philly cheese tart a la Nigel Slater.

To compensate for all this appalling domesticity . I went to see The Da Vinci Code last night too with Best Pal, her husband, and everyone else in Edinburgh it appeared (what else do you do in what appears to be October) - it is AAAAWFUUUUL - as bad as the reviews suggested and not even as funny as I thought it might be. Tom Hanks appears to be maturing into a sort of human-pig hybrid and Amelie whassername is far too thin and has one facial expression of blanket "I ought to be astonished but I can't act"-ness. The "action" goes: suspense-free murder/ inanely easy puzzle that 5 year old could solve/ historical flashback of utter banality/ giant expositional dump /token furrowing of brow by Tom Hanks as music swells for 10 minutes (can you imagine how dull it must have been ACTING it without the music?)/repeat ad sickbagum. It's nice to see Roslyn & the Louvre though :-)The end is bathos of the most extreme form and I cannot CANNOT believe this is the phenomenon everyone and their nasturtiums has been reading on trains: surely EVERYONE's heard of the whole Jesus-had-a-wife-and-child shtick by now? There's one point in the film where Hanks says to Amelie "In the end it's all about what you believe" and I wanted to tear his throat out and say "NO! NO! It isn't! It's about empirical proof or THERE'S NO POINT TO THIS CRAPPY MOVIE AT ALL!!"

And how the fuck do you persuade a murderous bound and gagged assassin to helpfully leap from a moving aeroplane into the trunk of a car anyway?

No, no, I will not get into the plot dysfunctions which came at the rate of about one per five minutes. I also refuse to put in spoiler space: if you need it for this movie you're too sick for my LJ, kid.

I came home and dialled up Elastica's first album on Napster as a kind of antidote or purity of intent. Ah, My Justine!! (What is she doing now?)


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May 2009

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