At first, I had no idea what my friend was talking about. He said, "I got you tickets to see The International," and I was like, The Inter-who's that now? Is this a foreign film?
Nope. Turns out, it's a movie starring my husband Clive Owen. The trailer made it seem like it was kind of, maybe, a little bit alright. Look, I'm just going to shoot you straight here: it looked awful. Like it had a serious Bourne Identity complex. But, it has Clive Owen and it's important to support your fake celebrity spouses in whatever endeavors they take on. Otherwise they'll leave you for "real women" who don't "stalk their houses" at "all hours".*
Here is my official take on the movie: it blew. I don't really even know what it was about. Something about banks and missiles and the Israeli government. I can't be totally sure because I was distracted by this the entire time:
You guys, I don't think there was one scene where he didn't have dirt on his face. Not. One. And it was glorious. The movie takes place internationally (I totally didn't see that coming!) at all these gorgeous places. I suppose the reasoning for this was to advance the so-called story, but all I kept thinking was, "I would do Clive Owen in Milan. I would also do Clive Owen in Istanbul, and Paris, and, good god yes in New York." I'm pretty sure that's what the filmmakers would have wanted me to think.
So, to sum up, if you're interested in well-crafted and thought out storytelling, don't see this. Don't even see the movie playing in the room next to this. It's that bad.
But if you're going specifically for ogling purposes, you won't be disappointed.
*Allegedly, of course.
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