Given the plethora of chick flicks there are to choose from and the fact that I more often than not subject my loving husband to estrogen laden movie fare, you might wonder what was on the dvd watching menu for this weekend of love.
Cowboys. Stage coach robbery. And America’s first official generation of post traumatically stressed war veterans.
In short, 3:10 to Yuma.
And now some of my gentle readers are thinking “wow, what a great wife you are.” However, after the movie was over and I queried Rob about his level of enjoyment his response was,
“This was a complete disappointment.”
Whew, and I thought it was just me who saw the credibility head south when Peter Fonda’s character was gut shot at point blank range and 15 minutes later was practically doing a jig as he helped escort Russell Crowe’s Oedipal outlaw to meet the prison train.
Homo-eroticism abounds* in the shape of Crowe’s right hand man and I still don’t get why Crowe went all mushy at the end over Christian Bale’s gimp Civil War tale, but I did my part for Valentine’s sake.
*It’s really not a “guy” movie if the bonding doesn’t cross a line or two.
anniegirl1138 
It’s always nice when a movie stinks and you’re not the only one who thought so. 🙂
someone had told me that the cinematography for 3:10 to Yuma was good… maybe that’s the “review” equivalent of saying “she’s got a nice personality”?
For Valentine’s Day evening, we wrestled the 7-year old and 2-year old into bed, put on Woody Allen’s Vicky Cristina Barcelona and promptly fell asleep. I am so middle aged that it hurts.