National Treasure, Yeah Right!

It's kind of neat living in a hotel room for a week. The bed was glorious and it didn't have those awful, flowered polyester covers either, it had a big plush duvet with a cover that smelled faintly of bleach, meaning it had definitely been washed before I slept in it. Yum!

The food was excellent, but it does get a bit tiring eating buffets all the time. Anyway, there were movies we could rent in the room, so we did. The first night we watched Assault on Precinct 13 now my love for Ethan Hawke knows no bounds at this moment, but the movie was so bad and Brian Dennehy chewed so much scenery it's no wonder he's, ahem, a portly older man. Then later on in the week we watched Hitch and it's no wonder Will Smith's the world's biggest box office draw, he's totally entertaining; it's just too bad that film falls apart at the end.

The coupe de gras for the week was National Treasure. What a terrible film! Too much like The Da Vinci Code (Sir Ian McKellen shame on you), so utterly predictable, and there's no way that the silly girl from Troy that launched a thousand boats was any more of a doctor than I am. Silly film -- so many of these ridiculous Hollywood blockbusters make so much ridiculous money inflating the egos of has-been stars going through their mid-life crisis, like Nicolas Cage, that it's makes me sad for the world. Yet, I still watched it, so what does that say about me? Now talk about chewing the scenery -- I think that Nicolas Cage might be right up there with Brian Dennehy to win the coveted "Worst Actor of my Work Conference" Award.