Tuesday, May 23, 2006


It seem's that there is intelligent movie critique sometimes:

There has been much debate over Dan Brown’s novel ever since it was published, in 2003, but no question has been more contentious than this: if a person of sound mind begins reading the book at ten o’clock in the morning, at what time will he or she come to the realization that it is unmitigated junk? The answer, in my case, was 10:00.03, shortly after I read the opening sentence: “Renowned curator Jacques Saunière staggered through the vaulted archway of the museum’s Grand Gallery.” With that one word, “renowned,” Brown proves that he hails from the school of elbow-joggers—nervy, worrisome authors who can’t stop shoving us along with jabs of information and opinion that we don’t yet require.

Found in The NewYorker

1 comment:

Kryptikmo said...

Somewhat amazingly though, it works as a film. OK, the ending's obvious, but at no point did my brain give up. I loathe the books (Favourite excerpt: "Suddenly he had a cognition": Cognition? WTF? (From Angels & Demons)), but the film was not god-awful, and there are worse ways to spend a wet Friday afternoon...