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Saturday, March 20, 2010

The Ghost Writer

I walk quickly, even when I am buying tickets at Camelview Theater in Scottsdale.  As I passed this elderly man on the sidewalk he ended up behind me to buy his lonely ticket.  Why did I need to pass him?  My friend and I were not alone. We had each other on a girls night out.  The Ghost Writer had just started as we settled into our seats.  As I sipped my soda I realized it was diet soda. I was so delighted to be out in Scottsdale for the night I didn't care.

I was a little lost in the beginning of the movie. Once Ewan McGregor as the "Ghost" got settled in the Prime Minister's ultra modern house on the beach I was cool with the movie.  I liked watching Pierce Brosnan, the Prime Minister, get all uptight and throw his cell phone on the beach deck and watch his body guard quickly pick it up. I want to do that. Somebody to pick up after me. Cool.

Kim Cattrall was not convincing as the Prime Minister's secretary.  Cattrall started with an English accent, lost it, and then tried to piece it back together.  It was a neat movie. Neat in terms of dry humor, fast moving suspense and cool WASP homes.  I never saw the Ghost actually write anything. Wasn't that the plot? All it showed him doing was crossing out big sections of manuscript that the prior Ghost Writer had written.  He wasn't the Ghost Writer, more like Sherlock with bed hair. In all the scenes Ewan looked like he had a hang over.  It was work for me to figure out what was going on. I liked this movie because it did make you think.  Most main stream movies out there are so predictable.    It all made sense in the end. Watch this movie with a Diet Coke and a red overcoat.  Or maybe with an elderly man all alone...

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