Munich...my inspiration, my first post

In an effort to appease my friends, I have begun a blog. In my circle of friends (the DCVC if you will), I am known as something of a cinephile (thanks, Bill Shannon). I love movies and love reading about movies, but unfortunately I don't always go to them as often or as promptly as I'd like. Sometimes I'm asked what my opinion is about a movie well before ever actually seeing the film.

Unlike others however, the fact that I may not have seen a film does not stop me from reviewing it. I offer "reviews" of such films to the glee of my friends who usually proceed to see the film in question and then regale me with all of the ways in which my review was innaccurate/ridiculous. They must miss the beginnings of my reviews, which usually start with "So, I haven't seen it but I hear it's about this guy..."

My other tendency is to take points away from films that are not at all the intention of the directors, producers or actors starring in said films. And it is with this caveat that I kick off my first review....Munich.

I'll start by letting everyone know that I did in fact see Munich. Overall, I feel that the film was very well done...almost antiseptically so. Not that it wasn't gritty...there was plenty of blood and sex and guts and explosions...but they were somehow picturesque or overly glossy in this film, which to me was strange. Spielberg has a way of making a building explode operatically. Secondly, the film is about the endless circle of violence in the Middle East, and in chronicalling such a bleak lose/lose proposition the movie isn't particularly uplifting. You sort of figure that out at the very beginning of your 2 1/2 hour journey though, which makes the film feel long. Lastly, the movie IS damn long...certainly longer than it needs to be, although the length does help to build the paranoia that the second half of the movie relies upon for forward momentum.

Now that I've regaled you with a relatively serious, movie-nerd review of Munich, I'll tell you what really stuck with me about the film...Eric Bana is hot. Way hotter than he has any right to be in a movie about being a patsy/assassin for the Israeli government. In fact, I definitely held back the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl at a couple of Bana ass close-ups which were liberally sprinkled throughout the movie. I realized that this is what I got out of the movie...the part that will really stick with me in the long run...after seeing the lovely Eric on the cover of my roommate's copy of Men's Health.

The other thing I took away from the film: the 70's were way cool for men's fashion. Not because all the styles were, well...stylish. No, the 70's were way cool because men then were not afraid of loud prints, the color orange, tight pants, sideburns, or gi-normous sunglasses...all of which I hold near and dear to my heart, if only for the sake of irony. There was a "devil-may-care" attitude in the world of men's fashion then that I appreciate and wish would return. I spent a critical part of the movie admiring the main terrorist's sense of style. Check him out in the London street scenes (in which he has people to hold his umbrella for him) if you're not feeling me on this one. Additionally, Daniel Craig (the new Bond) is one of the main perpetrators of 70's style in the film, making me A) like him a lot more than I did pre-Munich and B) wish that there could be a wacky 70's flashback Bond film in the offing.

So that's it. Eric Bana is hot, and I wish my male friends would embrace diagonal stripes, long hair and bellbottoms if only for my amusement.