I don’t, obviously. We needed comfort viewing again; the film equivalent of wrapping up in a blanket and eating sausages (veggie). Daughter vetoed the more violent Swedish stuff in favour of PS I Love You, which she had already watched, but I hadn’t. It was the least objectionable looking of the DVDs I was presented with to choose from.
Had seen the trailers in the cinema when the film was new, but had failed to grasp that it was the film of the book by Cecelia Ahern. Not that it matters.
In actual fact, I found the plot OK. ‘You didn’t like it, did you?’ said Daughter afterwards. And she was right in a way. I couldn’t like the main characters. Or I couldn’t like the actors. You sort of need to fall in love with the men, and you want to feel you could be the leading lady. It didn’t work for me. Couldn’t warm to either Gerard Butler or to Jeffrey Dean Morgan.
Harry Connick Jr was sweet and did his best at being an aspie, but I suspect he wasn’t given a very true script of what to do. Over-aspie at times and far too normal the rest of the time.
And what is it with Ireland? Now that it’s selling itself for films, we get a little bit of Ireland every time. Had they coloured the heather specially?