Two films last night, two.
One, The Dutchess, doesn't deserve a link, the names of stars, photos, nuttin'. It was the longest two hours of my life. It made me weep. It made me moan. It made me complain. It made me eat too much chocolate and popcorn. It made me glare at Sisterwife a bunch.
Entire plot? Kirea Knightly close ups with damp eyes, wigs, lavish costumes, wine, BABY, Kira, wigs, costumes, wine BABY, rinse, repeat. One good line, "Please put out the fire in Her Grace's hair." One line. One.
I came home, worn out with my complaining.
There, on cable was a brilliant indie film, The Quiet... not a single bad moment in the entire film, not a single wasted line, frame of film, shot, amazingly wonderful score (how can you lose with Beethoven?) good plot, nice twists, harsh words (To Dot: "Oh, your mother was my best friend, and so beautiful. I only slept with one man, my husband. She was such a slut!") A girl who is deaf mute moves in with her godparents after her father dies... her mother died when she was seven. The family is not what it seems, things skitter in the dark, lies, betrayals, and Dot moves quietly, taking it all in... over it all, the perfection of Beethoven's piano sonatas play weaving the story together. Everyone uses Dot as a confessional, because she cannot hear their words, nor share them if she did... she's the perfect person to abuse.
Rent The Quiet. Run from The Dutchess.