Thursday, October 30, 2003
Well, I had been warned.
The film The Scarlet Letter is the worst pile of s*** I've almost seen in a long time. I write almost, for after Arthur Dimmesdale's skinny-dip (sacrilege! The good Reverend would never - never, I tell you - swim naked), I simply gave up in exasperation and fell asleep. And so missed the apparent happy ending (Yet again sacrilege! What were they thinking?)
What happened to the masterpiece of American Gothic that is the novel? Okay, so you decide to rearrange and reimagine, but in this case it has been done on a scale that truly begs for a title-change. It has been turned into a Romance!
Hawthorne is spinning in his grave.
*Shakes head, walks off, plans to torture Roland Joffe and Demi Moore with an array of spiked and painful instruments.*
The film The Scarlet Letter is the worst pile of s*** I've almost seen in a long time. I write almost, for after Arthur Dimmesdale's skinny-dip (sacrilege! The good Reverend would never - never, I tell you - swim naked), I simply gave up in exasperation and fell asleep. And so missed the apparent happy ending (Yet again sacrilege! What were they thinking?)
What happened to the masterpiece of American Gothic that is the novel? Okay, so you decide to rearrange and reimagine, but in this case it has been done on a scale that truly begs for a title-change. It has been turned into a Romance!
Hawthorne is spinning in his grave.
*Shakes head, walks off, plans to torture Roland Joffe and Demi Moore with an array of spiked and painful instruments.*
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