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Forgot to mention - I finally got around to seeing The Pillow Book last night and . . . uhm . . . uh. Yeah. Weird, weird movie. Not sure if I liked it or not. On the plus side, ninety percent of the full-frontal nudity was male, which is a nice change from your usual movie nudity (quick, name five movies where the R rating due to nudity is because of the guys stripping down . . . yeah, I thought so). On the minus side, Ewan's character, Jerome, commits suicide for no immediately obvious reason (okay, okay, it was a love thing, but whatever) and then his body is stolen by his male lover, who proceeds to SLICE OFF JEROME'S SKIN AND TURN IT INTO A BOOK. Of course, I can understand that gratuitous twist - without it, the movie would have had to settle for merely being an intriguing exploration of a woman's life and sexuality via the device of showing us her fascination with painting calligraphy on a lover's body. And that would have been a shame. < /sarcasm >
Hmm. Maybe I didn't like it very much.
Hmm. Maybe I didn't like it very much.