Then the rain! Torrents and torrents, and my umbrella could do no good to shield it. Ducked inside for a drink (one beer please, "you're beautiful," no margarita - thanks for the offer, and now I've somewhere else to be).
The rain came again, I said enough is enough, and so off to Angelika. It was packed. I got cake. The familiar white font on black back danced across the screen, Groucho Marx singing "Hello I Must Be Going" playing in our ears. I don't care what the reviews bloody well say, I thoroughly enjoyed myself watching the new Woody Allen. Yes, okay, I'm a sucker for Henry Cavill, but truthfully that had absolutely nothing to do with said enjoyment (well...but as eye candy only). I found his character highly fictitious. Gorgeous, romantic, British men don't live in New York wooing girls off their feet with their genuine honesty, persistence, and truthful talk of love at first sight. That's for fairytales, folks, and Jane Austen (and apparently Woody Allen). All in all the movie was laugh out loud funny, dripping with sarcasm, an eau de Allen, and sweet & heartwarming no matter Boris' tirade at the beginning about it not being a feel good movie. I left feeling good, and there you have it.
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