The 28th of February was the closest I could get to Leap Day this year, so it had to do for seeing Leap Year, although I have no plans to propose to anyone, leap or no leap.
Leap Year, the film, was nowhere near as bad as the Guardian film critic made out. He felt like committing suicide afterwards, which is an immature kind of reaction. It’s not a great film, but makes for good, lighthearted entertainment.
It’s romantic and fairly funny (and also an advertisement for holidays in Ireland). It’s got Matthew Goode. I’ll share a hotel room with him any time. He seems to specialise in sharing rooms with leading ladies soon after meeting them, and it’s all very chaste.
Wringing the chicken’s neck was probably more shocking, but you could see it coming. You could see every single thing coming, although that’s fairly comforting at times. Matthew’s Irish accent was atrocious, but who cares? He’s almost always lovely. To film critics everywhere: ‘That’s what women want!’
Don’t know where the scriptwriter got the idea that women proposing on 29th February is such a novel and unheard of thing, but there you are. In fact, I don’t know why the lovely Declan would want the hopeless eejit woman from Boston at all.
And wouldn’t you say that the leaves on the trees in the photo above are pretty spectacular for February in Ireland? Global warming, or something. Or are the leaves green because everything in Ireland is green?