Snow White & the Huntsman

I’ll never again consider Disney’s Snow White as just another cute, animated tale of a beautiful young woman and her seven saviors. No. Hollywood’s Snow White and the Hunstman is now lodged in my mind like a popcorn husk. I’d hoped for much more from this latest version of the classic tale of good versus evil, but I was sadly disappointed. The sets were lavish and lovely—the nastiness of the Dark Forest, the sunset beauty of the fisher village, the cleverness of the Enchanted Forest with its tiny white nymphs and butterfly flowers, the darkness of Ravenna’s castle, and the muddy bleakness of the village nearby. But the story didn’t make much sense, Snow and the huntsman fleeing, Ravenna’s brother pursuing, the violence of the battle scenes with Snow riding forward like a second Joan of Arc. Charlize Theron, the lovely but wicked witch, kept screaming like a banshee, but she’d have been better off as the Monster for which she won an Oscar. They even had to screw with the mirror, having something gold drip down to form a thing standing before the queen, telling her she was no longer the fairest of them all. And Dopey, Sneezy, Sleepy, Bashful, Grumpy, Happy, and Doc, although dwarf-short, were nothing like the originals. No “Hi ho, Hi ho, it’s off to work we go.” When they had Snow and the huntsman strung up by their heels, it was instead, “Let’s leave ‘em and let ‘em die.” That should be the film's label, "Let's leave it and let it die." Most of the reviews were more positive than this one, but trust me, Snow and company aren’t worth going to see.

A cell phone joke from Larry (KarKnock2):

After a very busy day, a commuter settled down in her seat and closed her eyes as the train departed Grand Central Station for Connecticut. As the train rolled out of the station, the guy sitting next to her pulled out his cell phone and started talking in a loud voice: “Hi, sweetheart, it’s Eric, I’m on the train – yes, I know it’s the six-thirty and not the four-thirty but I had a long meeting – no, honey, not with that floozie from the accounts office, with the boss. No sweetheart, you’re the only one in my life – yes, I’m sure, cross my heart,” etc., etc. Fifteen minutes later, he was still talking loudly, when the young woman sitting next to him, who was obviously angered by his continuous diatribe, yelled at the top of her voice: “Hey, Eric, turn that stupid phone off and come back to bed!” Eric no longer uses his cell phone in public.