Wednesday, June 2, 2010
The Petite Sophisticate Goes to the Cinema
It's been a while since I walked out of a movie. But over the weekend, I did walk out on Sex and the City 2. It's not just that it was stupid (although it was), or boring (although it was.) I expected that. But the blithe amorality of the thing was actually offensive. I wish I could say that I walked out with icy dignity, but in fact I was enormously bratty: prostrating myself, rolling in the aisle, groaning, sighing audibly (don't worry, the place was so full of delighted guffawing that no one noticed), demanding a cigarette (no, I don't smoke) and staring accusingly at Slim who, having been forced to come, now didn't want to leave without seeing how they "represented the Abu Dhabi skyline." The rolling may seem excessive (not to mention unhygienic) but I assure you, it was totally involuntary, a manifestation of a physical discomfort the like of which I have not experienced since Garden State in 2004. (It was for this reason that I saw 500 Days of Summer alone and recused myself from Away We Go entirely.)
Just for the record, I liked Please Give. And Exit Through the Gift Shop.