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You know how there are decisions in life so impossible to make that thinking about them makes you burst a blood vessel in your brain, crack your head against the floor, and end up in a vegetative state for the rest of your days? This was one of those weeks for me.

DVD: Down with LoveNow, here were my choices -- Keanu Reeves in tight pants, or Ewan MacGregor looking sexy in a tux. Keanu or Ewan? You realize, of course, that dictators in small, war-torn third world countries don't even do things like this to their citizens anymore. It's mean, is what it is.

Fortunately, everybody else on the planet made the decision for me, and I'd just like to say thank you for buying up every single ticket of Matrix Reloaded for the next three years. As much as the mental image of Keanu in tight pants calls out to a special place in my heart, his acting calls out to my gag reflex and my lower intestine. So, Ewan and Down With Love, it is.

Down With Love stars Renee Zellweger as Barbara Novak, a "librarian from Maine" who writes a book that urges woman to go after careers and sex like men do. Of course, this is where any critic worth his or her salt would add: "…men like the movie's hero, Catcher Block (Ewan MacGregor), a sex-obsessed man's man and journalist who changes women like he changes shirts."

But I can't say that, because after watching Ewan for two hours, I just…


See, I say "brain," because I had one when I went into the theater, but I must have dropped it into my popcorn over and over again or something. My brain kept going off on these repetitive tangents where it yammered things like, "I surrender, you can be James Bond," and, "Drop the towel!

Drop the towel!"

And let's not even get into the sequences where Ewan's journalist character woos Barbara in disguise to prove she wants love and marriage instead of sex. There should not be sections of any movie where I can only think in names of body parts. For example, there's five minutes or so of screen time right after Catcher Block's introduction where the only word in the English lang…hipbones hipbones hipbones… Hipbones?! Hipbones! Hipbones hipbones. Hipbones hipbones hipbones…and then he left the room and I could think again. That's just…wrong. Or something.

What, you want to know more about the movie? Okay. Incredibly cool costumes and set design, Renee's too cute for words, David Hyde Pierce needs to be in movies more often, and the dialogue comes across as cheesy but fun. But the last twenty minutes must have been the point at which the screenwriter had too many martinis and passed out, slamming his head into the keyboard in mid-Barbara-speech. That's the only reason I can come up with for the huge "Wha-huh?" I blurted out when Renee started speaking, and speaking, and speaking…

Uh, hipbones?


Jennifer Matarese

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