I watched Across the Universe yesterday. It was decent. The story was a non-issue; it was merely a vehicle to excuse people singing Beatles tunes. I found myself bored when they weren't singing, but the singing was pretty good. I still think they cheated by getting Bono to do a couple of songs, but the actors/actresses were otherwise pleasant to listen to. A tad studied, perhaps, but all crystal in their own way.
The entire movie had about as much coherence as an acid trip. Or so I thought until there actually was an acid trip sequence and then I discovered how creepy that could get. (Thanks, Eddie Izzard, I may never sleep again.) I was telling
feiran and
darkling1 that it was a shame the writers had the entire Beatles catalogue at their disposal and they couldn't come up with a coherent story. I immediately retracted the statement when I recalled that a movie that felt like one long drug high is probably exactly what the Fab Four's music was meant to narrate.
I texted my sister after watching since I remembered she'd loved it, shared the same feelings with her, to which she replied that she has it on good authority (aka her pot-head roommate) that the movie does improve when one is watching it high. Something to consider, I suppose, for those of you so inclined. (Me, not so much.)
Funnily enough, I dreamt about using pot last night. True to form, I then immediately spent the rest of the dream freaking out about how drug tests at jobs that I might want six months down the road could detect that I'd used. Also, all my friends were totally shocked that I was such a pothead. Especially a smoker, since I make the most terrible fuss whenever I'm around smokers. I'm sure the Partnership for a Drug-Free America would be pleased to know that I've completely internalized the paranoia about using drugs and how they'll mess me up to the point that my dreams read like a pamphlet of prevention.
The entire movie had about as much coherence as an acid trip. Or so I thought until there actually was an acid trip sequence and then I discovered how creepy that could get. (Thanks, Eddie Izzard, I may never sleep again.) I was telling
I texted my sister after watching since I remembered she'd loved it, shared the same feelings with her, to which she replied that she has it on good authority (aka her pot-head roommate) that the movie does improve when one is watching it high. Something to consider, I suppose, for those of you so inclined. (Me, not so much.)
Funnily enough, I dreamt about using pot last night. True to form, I then immediately spent the rest of the dream freaking out about how drug tests at jobs that I might want six months down the road could detect that I'd used. Also, all my friends were totally shocked that I was such a pothead. Especially a smoker, since I make the most terrible fuss whenever I'm around smokers. I'm sure the Partnership for a Drug-Free America would be pleased to know that I've completely internalized the paranoia about using drugs and how they'll mess me up to the point that my dreams read like a pamphlet of prevention.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-06 05:05 pm (UTC)