I often have lunch by my PC. Bad habit, I know, but rather nice as well. During lunch break today, I bumped into the picture below and it almost made me pfffffthahahaha-spray my coffee all over the screen.
I didn't watch Titanic at a movie theater. The story didn't exactly appeal to me, and the hype was horrible. So I scored some very effortless "I'm very intellectual"-points on my inner score board by simply ignoring it. However, I dislike intellectual vanity almost as fervently as I perform it, so I watched the movie at home about 3 years after its release. I was tired and wanted to watch something easygoing, undemanding, mainstream stuff. So I picked up Titanic, headed back home to an evening by myself, coffee, candy and a blanket in place, remote control within reach. I don't know why I didn't use it. The remote control, that is.
The nausea set in after 5 minutes. And after that, there was hardly a line, hardly a move, hardly a tone that wasn't so predictable, so banal, so idiotic that it made me sick. Of course this particular rich chick goes and dances with the poor below deck. Of course she falls in love with butterface boy. Of course the violins go nuts. I won't say more. Let's just say that I hated it, and that I have never ever before experienced such cinematic relief as I did when DiCaprio's frozen, bluish fingers FINALLY let go of whatever he was holding on to FOREVER and he disappears into the dark, cold ocean ... while the violins reach the predictable mad crescendo of sorrow and pathos.
Aaaaaaah! What bliss! What relief! The Butterface boy is finally GONE! Seriously! That was the happiest ending I could think of at that stage! I sat there fearing that he would somehow return. Get thrown back onto the raft by Moby Dick or something. Uh. Fortunately, he WAS gone. For good!
I still don't understand why I didn't turn of the damn TV right away. I must have been too tired. Or maybe I actually enjoyed disliking it as much as I did. Entertainment can be found anywhere if you need it badly enough.
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