When I tell people what I do for a living, their responses tend to fall into a fairly narrow range. One, which I've never understood, is "Do you get free popcorn?" (A: No, and why would I want it?) The other is, "So you get to see all the movies?" My answer is inevitably something along the lines of, "Some I get to see. Some I have to see." Yes, it's a tough life in the film crit racket, although the problem isn't the good movies or the bad ones but those that pass over you in a lukewarm trickle. (No matter what you think of it, a movie as passionately nutsoid as Shutter Island, which I hope to get to anon, is a gift.) I'd rather spend a few hours contemplating a movie I love than one I hate, but at least in the latter case there's something to be gained by focusing my dislike. It's in the middle that finding something, anything at all, to say feels most like a chore.
All of which is by long-winded way of explaining why I'm only now getting around to linking to last week's review of the Charlie Darwin biopic Creation (that's Paul Bettany slaving over The Origin of Species above), and pairing it with my thoughts on the formulaic civil rights drama Blood Done Sign My Name. Neither is a bad movie, exactly, and both are admirable in their own mild ways, but I'd just have soon spent a couple hours organizing my DVD collection. Still and all, I invite you to enjoy.
(Title with apologies to C+C Music Factory)