I must admit, there was a very close call this past weekend when my girlfriend slash vocally disappointed female companion mentioned the name One Day when a recent 'let's go see a movie' discussion came up, you know the one right after the 'why don't we go to museums or art galleries anymore' discussion which inevitably come just before me remembering that she's probably thinking of another boyfriend because I never did those things with her. Anyhow, the point is, I came disturbingly close to having to sit through two hours of romance in a dark theater, and not the kind where you get the tingling first hint of second base with a brand new boob. No, the tear jerker weepy kind where you have to pretend you like a movie that made you want to lobotomize yourself with your tightly twisted soda straw through your nasal passages and directly into your frontal lobe.
Now, the good news. Anne Hathaway. Sort of a secret on again off again lust crush of the most inappropriate kind, looked rather alluring last night at the U.K. Premiere of the film, where the thespianic we applaud for her full frontal permission slips in the film world stole the red carpet looking all glamorous and starlet like. So, there is one good thing to come out of this film. Enjoy.