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To quote Blaine and Antoine: "Hated It!"
This movie was so bad, I don't know where to begin. Brad Pitt was uninspired, cold, and just plain dull to watch. He might've had a bit of redeeming value if he'd camped it up a bit, but he just seemed deeply uncommitted to the performance. It's as if the only direction Petersen gave him was to glisten and glower, and while he did enough of that for two-and-a-half FREAKING hours, he was about as emotive as the beige paint on the walls of my apartment.
Even Peter O'Toole couldn't hide the fact that he was aware that he was knee deep in a stinker, but the scene between Achilles and Priam was touching.
If it weren't for Eric Bana and Brian Cox, I probably would've walked out on the movie much earlier. Oh, and Orlando Bloom still looks like a chihuahua, although he was perfectly cast as a love-sick punk who thought more with his hoo-hoo than his brain.
I want my $8.95 back.
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I chose the ivy leaf, 'cause nothing else would do...
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