Despite the fact that I abhor movie theaters and the not-shutting-off-cell-phone, candy-wrapper-crinkling, saying-stupid-obvious-shit-out-loud people who inhabit them, this weekend I went to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, starring my boyfriend, Johnny Depp. Now, I had extremely high expectations for this movie, as it was
- starring Johnny Depp in weird makeup (and, seriously, J-Depp could put on a costume and read the phone book and I'd be enthralled)
- a remake of one of my favorite movies/version of one of my favorite childhood books
- directed by the delightfully macabre Tim Burton
- about gluttony
So, of course, since my expectations were so high, I inevitably wound up disappointed. Not that it wasn't a good, entertaining little romp through Michael Jackson's house, but still. I'm not so sure about the one little guy playing all the Oompa Loompas, either, and while the songs were nicely updated and somewhat funkified, nothing will ever top the doopity-doo of the originals. You can't go home again, people, you just can't. The kid who played Charlie, by the way, was perfection.
Dear Clive Owen,
Hi! You don't know me, but my name is Nina and I live in the United States, whereas you are fantastically British. I am building a room for you in my basement. You can live there rent-free and do yardwork. I just saw you in this movie called Closer. Remember when you made that movie? I know it came out a long time ago, but I just rented it. I'm sorry I didn't pay to see it in the theater, but I kind of hate people, so I stay in a lot. Anyway, in this movie, you play this hot, depressed, mysogynistic bastard who talks dirty. Suffice it to say, I was a bit drawn in. Are you like that in real life? Because I saw you on Conan once and you were really nice and low-key and, well, that's just not gonna work. But I'd rather just discuss it with you in person, so give me a call. You can get my number from Jude Law.