This movie seemed to accurately describe life as I’ve come to know it, except with much more attractive British people in Oxford. As a result, I felt sort of insecure about my own life while simultaneously falling in love with theirs. Peter Sarsgaard was wonderfully smarmy and if I had been judging an objective contest in a bar on the matter of who is the smarmiest, he would have easily won. He was the kind of smarmy that was the perfect combination of charming and creepy. Oh my god. Also Carey Mulligan was adorable and I was painfully aware of how I will never be that adorable because I don’t have a British accent.
Overall the movie made me start to think about how men, in many ways, can be compared to food. In this case, Peter Sarsgaard is cake. (Delicious but bad for you.) Dominic Cooper is probably the equivalent of caviar. (Delicious but hard to get.) I don’t eat seafood though, so I guess this explains why we are not dating.
And now I’m wondering if there could be a book deal in writing a book about how different kinds of men are like different kinds of food. Overall I dislike the idea, because I dislike limiting the idiosyncrasies of human existence into broad, general, sophomoric terms. However, I told some girl friends of mine, and they laughed. So I don’t know. I think The Invention of Lying is still stuck in my head. I’m being too forthright. Also this movie review has nothing to do with the movie. EW will never hire me.
This movie was delightful, just as I knew it would be. (I read the script last summer!)