Tuesday, April 07, 2009
The Current Cinema
Thanks to Netflix, I've been renting up a storm lately. I saw Vicky Cristina Barcelona, which I enjoyed more for the Vicky than the Cristina but mainly for the Barcelona, and Match Point, which reaffirmed my belief that the best Woody Allen movies are the ones without Woody Allen in them. Then I saw Frozen River, which was not as super depressing as I feared a movie about human trafficking would be, and The Women (the non-Meg Ryan version), which was one of the more hilariously misogynistic things I've ever seen. I also saw Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, of which I watched while I was painting by numbers and only finished three quarters of before deciding there was just too much shouting, and Live Flesh, which I heartily enjoyed despite (or perhaps because of) the need to read subtitles. It's been a very busy period for my mailbox.
The one casualty? That's Entertainment, Part I, which has been sitting on my counter for about a month and a half now. Not that entertaining, apparently.
Thanks to Netflix, I've been renting up a storm lately. I saw Vicky Cristina Barcelona, which I enjoyed more for the Vicky than the Cristina but mainly for the Barcelona, and Match Point, which reaffirmed my belief that the best Woody Allen movies are the ones without Woody Allen in them. Then I saw Frozen River, which was not as super depressing as I feared a movie about human trafficking would be, and The Women (the non-Meg Ryan version), which was one of the more hilariously misogynistic things I've ever seen. I also saw Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, of which I watched while I was painting by numbers and only finished three quarters of before deciding there was just too much shouting, and Live Flesh, which I heartily enjoyed despite (or perhaps because of) the need to read subtitles. It's been a very busy period for my mailbox.
The one casualty? That's Entertainment, Part I, which has been sitting on my counter for about a month and a half now. Not that entertaining, apparently.
