Contrary to popular belief, I do like to stand corrected. Occasionally. So long as it's nothing incredibly embarrassing, obviously.
I had no desire to go to the cinema to watch "Australia".Every morning for six weeks I drove past a billboard big enough to have me believe I was actually on set with the fifty-foot Kidman/Jackman combo and that, for me, was enough. It looked like it would be a combination of Life on Earth without Mr Attenborough (a fifth cousin seven times removed or something - so I'm led to believe)and a vehicle for two stupidly attractive actors in which to get all sloppy at the merest hint of subdued Didgeridoo-song.
Left to my own devices the other night I went slightly silly and rented out:
'The Reader' (miserably brilliant. I didn't expect Kate Winslet to have such dark aureola and some things are best left unknown)
'Slumdog Millionaire' (watching tonight)
'He's just not that into you' (which MiniMe wants to see - tomorrow night)and
'Australia'. Even Mr R was rivitted. The cinematography was gorgeous and if you can just get past Nicole's ludicrous ("Ay em e Laydee") British Empire accent and let yourself be washed away on the tide of the story, then the whole thing is a delicious treat from start to finish. Seriously. No sooner did we think 'ahh, a lovely happy ending', than it continued to more drama and another happy ending... followed by more dramatic interludes and another ending. And the ending? Shan't tell you. You HAVE to see it. It's just lovely. It's cliched, it's romantic, it's eductional. (I never realised Hugh Jackman had such a body - watch out for the bucket over the head - generously slo-mo'd shower scene...you may need one afterwards yourself!)
Oh, and after seeing him all spruced up for another 'W.O.W' moment - Jackman just HAS to be the next James Bond. You'll see why.