 Putting the "V" in "LOVE"
I loved V for Vendetta.
I was supposed to go make fun of it because Hugo Weaving is clearly taking over the world one scenery-chewing part at a time, and because if Alan Moore of Castle Greyskull has denounced it than you know it's pretty damn evil, but then I saw it.
I loved V for Vendetta.
Promotional still of the movie Genevieve FUCKING LOVED.
Hugo Weaving will be robbed of an Oscar because people will forget he was wearing a mask, because he's that good.
Stephen Rea will be robbed of an Oscar because he is perfect and everything he does is small, and nobody cares about small.
Sinead Cusack will be robbed of roles, because people will forget than she was in this, and that her scene was the most tender in the whole movie, which is pretty fucking good for an assassination.
There is nothing about this movie that I would change, which is saying something, because I am of the opinion that Natalie Portman used up all her talent in The Professional and she's just coasting now.
My lack of sarcasm scares me, frankly, now there will be four months of people not liking it and me wanting to spork them, which is bad for the complexion.
Their complexions, of course. With spork holes in it.
Honestly, though, go see it. It's smartly written, it's well-acted, the music is flawless.
The costumes? Did you notice that V has to be sewn into his cape? There's no fastening. HE IS SEWN INTO THAT CAPE.
I LOVE YOU V.
CALL ME.
(Ignore Hellboy. He just gets jealous.)
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