Movie Review: The Forgotten

Saturday night, 9:25 p.m, found me sitting in a movie theater, popcorn bag in my lap, Diet Coke in the arm rest holder, waiting for "The Forgotten" to begin.

In front me of sat three teenaged boys, spaced out with a seat between each of them. I thought they were saving spaces for three of their friends--thus the spacing--until I sat three girls walk in. The boys gestured wildly at these girls. Watching them, I could tell immediately that only one of the boy-girl pairs was a couple. The others were along for the ride. I thanked God Almighty that I was no longer a teenage girl along for the ride, sitting next to a boy, too distracted to actually watch the movie.

I didn't have a burning desire to see "The Forgotten," but I had a burning desire to get out of my house without a child and this movie was the only one that sounded remotely interesting that my husband doesn't want to see. He wants to see "Ladder 49" and "Friday Night Lights" (he read the book years and years ago), so I won't see those without him.

The movie itself was put together well enough. Better still were the shocking moments--one that caused me to shriek and clap my hand over my mouth. The entire audience tittered with nervous laughter for quite some time after that. Several moments followed that were surprising, but nothing as heart-stopping as the first moment.

You can read reviews of the movie's plot and such elsewhere. What I have to say is this: JuliAnne Moore looked way, way, way too good for a woman who hadn't showered for a few days, who was on the run, who was coping with a crisis of unbelievable proportions.

I haven't looked that good on the best day of my life. If I went three days without a shower, birds would start building nests in my hair because I'd be banished to the backyard where unclean animals must stay.