Those who hate movie entries, come back tomorrow.

I saw three movies over the past few days, or, put together, I saw The Patriotic Chicken Runs Through the Perfect Storm, a fine movie about a chicken who, even though she is British, wants freedom from the Brits and tomahawks her captors to tiny bits and flies away--right into the nexus of three storms.

It's a bit uneven.

The Perfect Storm

On Monday, after work, this was what I saw, after battling myself through the rain-soaked Go-Gos concert taking place in Times Square. It was very weird. It is also almost completely impossible not to sing along with "Vacation". "Two weeks without you and I still haven't gotten over you yeeeeeet!"

Anyway, the movie. First of all, I read the book last year or the year before, and I loved it very much; I also love George Clooney. This movie was pretty likely to grab me, especially after reading an article or two about how much they wanted to stay true to what really happened and show respect for the families of the men of the Andrea Gail. And they did. Without making them perfect or anything, these were flawed men, but you care about them.

What the movie is really about, though, is fate and destiny and inevitability. It reminded me of Run Lola Run, not in style, but in the fact that you see all these little incidents piling up to the only conclusion that could possibly occur.

The movie is also about weather. Not what we think of as weather, these little rains and pretty, sunny days, but real weather, the reason that the ancients believed that the gods made the weather when they were angry.

Weather is big and men are small and weather doesn't care.

The performances were all-around excellent, especially ol' George and Diane Lane and John C. Reilly and John Hawkes, an actor that I have never seen before, as Bugsy, who has a real depth to him.

Clooney looks mighty fine in the beard, too. My m'my my my, I do love me a beard. As I said to Tracing last night, I might not have realized that Russell Crowe is my one true love and that our destinies are entwined throughout eternity and stuff if it wasn't for the fact that he wore a beard in Gladiator. Then again, I probably would have, but the beard helped.

Know what? Gotta go. The Patriotic Chicken will have to wait until tomorrow.

Do you believe in destiny?

And we're still talking about dream groupings of actors, Martha Stewart, singing, the first concert we ever saw, guilty pleasures, our new favourite books, and still, and always, our big fat asses.

Don't forget to check out both swellerific Journals of the Week, Jen and Jen!

And a few more people are wanting to trade mix tapes with me, which is great, but I'm still trolling for more. C'mon, I want to know what you like!

Today's horoscope:
You swing from a total absorption in nitty-gritty to being bored and wanting change. Allow both thoroughness and the need for variety.

One year ago today:
"You will come and help me with this, won't you?"
"Sure, Steve, I'll go anywhere with you!"

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