With that in mind, I stopped by the napkin dispenser and grabbed a bunch. In our dozen or more years of friendship, Kay and I had never seen a movie together. But we're generally a sympathetic pair and I was nervous about seeing my friend cry, even thought it was going to be dark and we'd both be facing the same direction. I didn't want to hear her either.
I felt like it might be cheating to pick this is at my first movie. I've already seen the play, read (most some of) the book, and am very familiar with the soundtrack. I'll be seeing it on stage next week with my family. But really, I guess this is sort of easing into the whole traumatic ordeal. I realize seeing movies is so normal for everyone else. I've already heard "Fifty movies in a year? Big deal! I watch five in a weekend!" more than once.
And I'm a little jealous of the person who already watches these things comfortably. So I'm starting out easy.
My review of Les Misérables: So many faces. That movie really wanted us to look at people's faces for a long time. I already knew all the words, so this isn't fair. But man--those faces. Long looks at them.
Despite all the lingering mugs, it was really enjoyable. All you people who kept talking about it weren't just saying things to be nice to Tom Hooper. (I just looked it up- he's the director. Has he done anything else? Does his stuff always look like it was instagrammed twice so you can double the impact of the Walden filter?)
The people seemed to spend an awful lot of time on the roof and on ledges. This made me nervous. Also, I couldn't get past the sunglasses on the woman at the wedding.
This is a quality review.
Fortunately, any noises that we would have made would have been drowned out by the sobbing of every emotionally sound person around us.
When the final scene blacked out, a very woman very sincerely asked, "Is that really the end?"
On the drive home I listened to Delilah and her slew of sad, sorry callers. They were lamenting loves lost and men given to the war.
I still didn't cry.
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