Mmm-hmm. The Longwinded Mr. Ripley had me squirming in my seat thinking about every
other meaningful thing I could be doing instead of watching Matt Damon, in all his
down syndrome glory, "act" in this film....you know, i could wash my hair, sew
missing buttons back on coats, translate the works of Proust into Gaelic....
Philip Seymour Hoffmann, in contrast to the thoroughly snore-inducing Damon, may have
been worth the price of admission. Truly diabolical- I love him.
When I tried to have normal conversations about this movie with my gaybot friends the
next evening all they could say was, "Oh my God! That scene in the bathtub? I was like
uh-huh, you go! Get in!" or "Ugh! You're kidding! You didn't like it? JUDE LAW! I want
his dick!"
Jude Law's dick and all, the film was incredibly lacklustre...
Elizabeth
BORE-onto
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