Thursday, May 8, 2008

Movie Review: Before the Devil Knows You're Dead

Sometimes things happen and you regret them later. Maybe you put too much sugar in your coffee, or performed some heavy flirting with a married guy, or pushed someone down a flight of stairs. Either way, there are things that happen that make you think to yourself, “I really wish I had a time machine right now.”

That’s the situation I’m currently in.

I was in the Superfresh a few weeks ago – the classy one down on South Street – and this obnoxious scene-tard was going on and on about movies while standing by the Redbox. “Oh, this is the BEST MOVIE I’ve seen in a LONG time,” he said, waving around a copy of Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead. I took it as some kind of dare, and rented it. If I had a time machine right now, I would go back in time and tell him his taste in movies sucks, because yeah, I got to see Marisa Tomei’s boobs, and Phillip Seymour Hoffman is basically awesome in everything he’s ever been in (Happiness, anyone?), but that’s about all that was worth seeing in it, and it could have been compressed down to about an hour and a half or less.

(See? I’m not always happy with a longer movie. Take that, people who don’t agree with me that I Am Legend would have been better if it was longer and, you know, more coherent.)

Anyway, the movie wasn’t worth watching, that guy in Superfresh is a toolbox, and my coffee is way too sweet. But I’m seeing Matthew Fox in black leather tomorrow, so I don’t have a care in the world.

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