Elizabethtown: shmaltzy, sentimental, horrendously contrived, at least half an hour overlong, starring two of the most irritating actors of our generation… and thoroughly lovely. I guess any film with a soundtrack featuring Ryan Adams, Kathleen Edwards, Lindsay Buckingham and Tom Petty was going to get a thumbs-up from me at the end of the day.
It’s not only that though – I just love that type of story, the person-meets-person-who-in-a-matter-of-days-changes-their-life-forever relationship stories. I guess you could say I’m a fan of films where not very much happens, sort of the televisual equivalent of a telephone conversation until the bathwater grows cold or a long picnic in the summer sunshine. I like watching people interact even if they’re fictional ones (well, more so if they’re fictional ones, because you can put down the book or turn over the telly when they start to annoy you). I like the thought that there’s somebody out there who’s going to become this massively important part of your life, and you don’t even know they exist yet.
Back when I was younger I had this “Book of the Unexplained” that some well-meaning relative had picked up for the sci-fi nerd in the family, and it had a section on palmology… is that the word? It sounds suspiciously like a brand of shampoo… I’m meaning like fortune-telling anyway, and I do have a point to this anecdote somewhere. One of the things I discovered is that there are some little grooves between the base of your pinkie and whatever line it is that is the first one, and they’re supposed to relate to the life-changing people you are going to meet. The thing is though, the lines are supposed to appear at roughly the distance the relationships will occur in your life, and so if the two people who I would traditionally think such a description would apply to are it for me I’ll die… hmmm… next week. So I’m not giving up quite yet. And hey – two months ago I was barely aware of your existence. So what the hell do I know?
I got caught in the rain last night – after my comment about my missing umbrella – but I ran home in it with my head back and my tongue out, singing along to whatever was on the iPod.
I’m buying a new brolly on the way home right enough.
The last episode in the current series of Spooks is on tonight, 9pm on BBC1, with a rip-roaring Princess Diana conspiracy theory yarn and plenty of smouldering sexual tension. Lola and I will be sitting with our mobile phones poised, lamenting the end of our favourite Thursday night entertainment (though I suppose there’s always 30 Days, the Morgan Spurlock documentary series on More 4 that would have been worth a look before now if it wasn’t for my favourite spy trash-slash-drama show). The lawyer I have a massive crush on even says he might watch it. What’s your excuse?