i went to see "The Phaaaaaaaaaaaantom of The Op-Era" over the weekend. it's kind of like a really long "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter" commercial, but with more mist and more singing. oh, and there's some vogueing, too. remember vogueing? i remember seeing paris is burning back in the day, and once as a young club kid i witnessed willie ninja or someone from the house of xtravaganza really working it in the middle of the floor at the tunnel. but i digress.
why the world is atwitter with emmy rossum i cannot imagine. the girl had the same expression on her face throughout the entire movie: slackjawed, wide-eyed amazement. it's like they airlifted her out of another craptastic flick, Independence Day, and plopped her into this fog-laden trashterpiece.
however, there was one good thing about this movie, and his name is Gerard Butler. i vaguely remember him in Tomb Raider 2 but now he rivals my man Clive Owen for rugged UK heartthrob of the year. i mean, peep this!
of course, in the movie you only see half of his hotness, because he's wearing that Rejuvenique thingy of Infomercial fame. there was a review in the new yorker that said what was going on under the mask could probably be solved with "fresh fruit, Botox, and a healthy squirt of Visine."
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