closet

M: watch there will be blood!!!
B: 27 dresses muna. hahaha
M: tanginanamaneh!
M: hahaha

So I really did watch 27 Dresses. It was a request from my sis-in-law that I download the film, and given the circumstances of her condition, I cannot not oblige. And upon completing the download, as I’ve already taken the effort to scour the net for this flick, might as well watch it, right?

A friend, upon learning that I saw Endo and Persepolis over the weekend while feasting on The National and Lightspeed Champion in between, asked me if all I ever consume are artsy movies and indie tunes.

Well, not really.

I may be a snob and a self-admitted elitist when it comes to musical tastes and film preferences, but in actuality, am really a closet chick flick fanatic. I thought The Devil Wears Prada was a great cinematic experience and I consider The Lakehouse to be a masterpiece. But please, don’t get me started on Love Actually.

The question remains, did I like 27 Dresses? To be fair, it was ok. I didn’t view the experience as two hours I would never ever get back.

The film was rather conventional, where the plot centers on boy meeting girl, boy fighting with girl, then boy makes up with girl and they live happily ever after. I didn’t really connect with the protagonists, but not that grave to the extent that I’d wind up hating them.

Bottomline, 27 Dresses is actually enjoyable, fun, relaxing and stupid. Yes, stupid. Because as we all know, a dash of stupidity once in a while is always healthy.