the most incredibly unremarkable movie I have seen in some time. I’ve been sitting here thinking, “What movie are you?” for the last couple hours. Seriously, though, Michael Clayton? The Devil Wears Prada? Garden State? Maybe some Away We Go or Rachel Getting Married? And that’s only some of the films I can think of from the past couple years.
This is just one of those late-night rants fueled by staying up to watch my Netflix because I’ve had it a few days more than reasonable. I was in a 3-star mood for its general easy-to-watchosity, but then it really went downhill in the last 45 minutes when I just wanted it to be over with and I didn’t find George Clooney’s, Vera Farmiga’s or Anna Kendrick’s characters at all likable. Clooney was doing the same sad, sad overconfident man schtick he always does, but Farmiga and Kendrick I really liked even if they weren’t working with much.
But I just can’t quit you Anna, can I?
I sat through Elsewhere and Camp for you, and I’m not even sure why. I like you, kid, and I don’t understand it. Maybe I’m just wishing for your continued success because I want you to shine brighter than that annoying lip-biter Kristen Stewart.
