Six Terrible Movie Characters I Would Like to Personally Strangle

Ever watch a movie where you hate a character with every fiber of your being? You don't just want them to lose in the end, you want them immediately removed from the plot, lest you chuck something at the screen. You despise them more than actual assholes you've encountered, and would like nothing more than to feed him/her to Jaws. Or introduce his/her foot to a lawnmower.

There are plenty of characters I dislike or find annoying, but only the following six have entered strangle-worthy territory. It being Christmas Eve, I thought I'd share with my dear readers exactly why I hate these fictional fuckfaces, while providing clips that showcase their atrocities. Have a copy of A Muppet Christmas Carol or It's a Wonderful Life handy. You're going to need it to restore your merriment and goodwill towards mankind.

Blanche Barrow from Bonnie and Clyde

Not only is Blanche a complete wimp compared to badass Bonnie, she nearly ruins everything by screaming hysterically during a shootout. Like, ten solid minutes of screaming and arm flapping. And she isn't even smart enough to duck! Lots of people would lose their shit during an ambush, for sure, but there's a difference between freaking out and being ridiculously self-indulgent. Blanche falls squarely in the latter category. She even has the audacity to claim a cut of their loot when she does nothing except jeopardize their lives and cry about how she used to be a preacher's daughter. Blanche, I think I speak for everyone when I say if you can't take the heat, go back to the chapel.

For the aforementioned hysterical screaming, check out 4:00-5:05 of this heavily edited video. And yes, Estelle Parsons won an Oscar for nonstop screeching.

Christine Everhart from Iron Man

Tony Stark is not exactly Mr. Moral, so indignant Vanity Fair reporter Christine Everhart is kinda justified in her criticisms. However, she takes things way too far. Asking Stark what he thinks of his nickname Merchant of Death is one thing, but verbally thrashing him at a classy cocktail party over a war-torn village is a little much. And honestly, who the hell carries photos of said destruction with them at all times? Stark wasn't even expected at that party. Are they just always in her purse, ready for public shaming?

Oh and one more thing: this whole holier-than-thou, crusading journalist thing is all well and good but don't you think sleeping with your interview subject is a tiny bit unethical? Pettily insulting his assistant the next day is also kinda unprofessional. But you go ahead being an enormous hypocrite, Christine. Just please stay out of Iron Man 2 as much as possible.

Alvy Singer from Annie Hall

Part of this has to do with the fact that I can't stand Woody Allen. It took every ounce of patience and self-control I had to sit through Annie Hall, and I could barely even handle Allen's much smaller role in Scoop. But I should clarify: I have nothing against him as a director or writer. In fact, I think he's pretty talented in those roles. He is, however, one of the worst actors I've ever witnessed. No matter the scene or situation it feels like he's doing stand-up, and thus he doesn't come across as a real character. That's bad enough. But Alvy of Annie Hall is also one of the most pompous and sanctimonious men to ever fill the screen. He's always berating Annie for not going to therapy, or for reading The National Review, or doing basically anything. No wonder she dumped his sorry ass.

Veda Pierce from Mildred Pierce

Bratty girls are hardly in short supply in movies, but even sixty-four years later, no one's topped Veda Pierce. Veda demands the high class life from her indulging mother, who waits tables and builds up an entire restaurant chain to buy them into the American aristocracy. Mildred's husband divorces her for giving into the kids too much and she busts her ass just so Veda can tell her that she's low class scum. Veda commits much worse and much more spoiler-tastic crimes as the movie progresses (see it for yourself -- it's an amazing film noir) that cause her mere presence to get my eyes squinting and twitching. See her call her awesome mother terrible things and even slap her between 1:49 and 2:01 of the trailer:

Every single person from Jesus Camp

Oh shit, they're real human beings, aren't they? It's better for my piece of my mind if we think of them as fictional figures and not living people with actual political influence.

Also, just to clarify, I wouldn't strangle the children, just the adults.

Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

The moment in this movie when someone attempts to murder Nurse Ratched marks the only time I've vigorously cheered on a would-be killer. Because there are villains, and then there is Nurse Ratched. She isn't your run-of-the-mill bitch. Oh no. She fucks with the already messed-up minds of every patient in her ward, preventing them from making any steps towards recovery. In fact, there isn't much wrong with any of the guys, but Ratched convinces them there is. She also withholds their cigarettes, forces pills on them and does something else so sinister/malicious/low that it makes you wish she was real just so you could viciously beat her down (too much of a spoiler, though). Watch her cruelly deny McMurphy and co. the right to watch a baseball game here:

So which characters would you personally like to strangle?

Golden Globes: Snap Judgment

Shameful, I know. It's been three days since the announcement and I'm just now getting to a Golden Globes post.* In my defense, I spent a good day and a half of that interval flying and sleeping. Still, apologies all around. Here are my basic reactions to the major categories of the first major awards of the season.

Best Motion Picture -- Drama

Avatar

The Hurt Locker

Inglorious Basterds

Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire

Up in the Air

Time will tell if it lasts, but I couldn't be happier at the frontrunner status Up in the Air is currently enjoying. It might just go all the way! Glad to see some recognition for The Hurt Locker, too. Avatar's plot has more holes than Swiss cheese riddled with a machine gun and laughable lines, but the fantastic visuals make the spot understandable. And apparently Inglorious Basterds has more of an Oscar prayer than I expected, for the SAGs followed the Golden Globes with significant recognition. Quentin Tarantino is likely douching it up at some Hollywood party as we speak.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Drama

Emily Blunt, The Young Victoria

Sandra Bullock, The Blind Side

Helen Mirren, The Last Station

Carey Mulligan, An Education

Gabourey Sidibe, Precious

No big surprises here. Carey Mulligan and Gabourey Sidibe seem like locks, and I'm going to go ahead and call Helen Mirren for an Oscar nod, too. Still not sure if the Academy will go for Sandra Bullock, or Emily Blunt (in a barely discussed British movie about a British monarch who isn't a Tudor). However, considering Bullock made the SAG list, too, and that the only likely "Actress in a Comedy" pick to go onto the Oscars is Meryl Streep, at least one is bound to go through.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Drama

Jeff Bridges, Crazy Heart

George Clooney, Up in the Air

Colin Firth, A Single Man

Morgan Freeman, Invictus

Tobey Maguire, Brothers

....um, Tobey Maguire? As in the guy whose only notable recognition thus far has been the MTV Movie Award for Best Kiss? Have we all forgotten about Spiderman 3? The L.A. Times' The Envelope smartly predicts that Maguire will get replaced come Oscar time with Jeremy Renner of The Hurt Locker. Otherwise, all the picks seem Oscar-bound.

Best Motion Picture -- Comedy

(500) Days of Summer

The Hangover

It's Complicated

Julie & Julia

Nine

Gotta give a big OH HELL YES to the (500) Days of Summer nod. I know it won't make it to the Academy Awards BP category, but it's still a major cause for celebration. Yeah, otherwise this is a pretty meaningless category thrown in for kicks and giggles by the Hollywood Foreign Press. Let's treat it as such and move on.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Comedy

Sandra Bullock, The Proposal

Marion Cotillard, Nine

Julia Roberts, Duplicity

Meryl Streep, It's Complicated

Meryl Streep, Julie & Julia

Double Meryl in the same category could mean vote-splitting, upsetting the strongest contender (for Julie & Julia, specifically). But the move is unsurprising considering Meryl Streep's universal critical adoration. Pleasantly surprised to see Julia Roberts in there (Duplicity is fantastic, in case you missed it) and calling Marion Cotillard the throwaway nod (can any of the Nine women be considered leads, or beat the Cruz buzz?). The Sandra Bullock nod is completely undeserved in my opinion, but I'm thanking my lucky stars they didn't pick a crappier romantic comedy heroine.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Comedy

Matt Damon, The Informant!

Daniel Day-Lewis, Nine

Robert Downey, Jr., Sherlock Holmes

Joseph Gordon-Levitt, (500) Days of Summer

Michael Stuhlbarg, A Serious Man

Favorite category, bar none. Again, I know it's meaningless, but who cares? If my 50 posts on Sherlock Holmes weren't clear enough, I'm expecting Robert Downey, Jr. to make me cry many tears of happiness this Christmas, and if I had a marching band and a choreographed ensemble, I'd totally be recreating the (500) Days of Summer dance to celebrate Joe G-L's nod. I'm actually going to be conflicted on this one! But doubting even Oscar magnet Daniel Day-Lewis will make it onto the next round.

Best Performance by a Supporting Actress in a Motion Picture

Penelope Cruz, Nine

Vera Farmiga, Up in the Air

Anna Kendrick, Up in the Air

Mo'Nique, Precious

Julianne Moore, A Single Man

So unsurprising that I literally have nothing to say. Except that I predict Anna Kendrick will be the only Twilight star to ever boast the title of Oscar nominee.

Best Performance by a Supporting Actor in a Motion Picture

Matt Damon, Invictus

Woody Harrelson, The Messenger

Christopher Plummer, The Last Station

Stanley Tucci, The Lovely Bones

Christoph Waltz, Inglorious Basterds

Also pretty much expected. Waltz sounds like the favorite, though only two of these movies have been widely released and reviewed, so maybe it's too early to say.

Best Director

Kathryn Bigelow, The Hurt Locker

James Cameron, Avatar

Clint Eastwood, Invictus

Jason Reitman, Up in the Air

Quentin Tarantino, Inglorious Basterds

I really don't think Clint Eastwood has made a movie without the aim of winning an Oscar in at least five years, and the awards committees have been far too happy to oblige him. However, my buddy Jason, James Cameron and Kathryn Bigelow seem like the stronger contenders this season. Reitman has my vote, though I would be happy to see Bigelow win. Speaking of which, how ridiculous is it that she would be only the fourth woman in history to be nominated for Best Director? Answer: almost as ridiculous as the fact that Alfred fuckin' Hitchcock never won that award.

*I have no idea why Blogger claims this was published on December 15, because it definitely wasn't.

...And Now Your Moment of Zen WTF Just Happened There?

Jon Stewart's got political speeches and news clips. I've got random movie moments. Today I present one from the 1968 Lindsay Anderson mindfuck If..., also known as Malcolm McDowell's feature film debut. Yes, that Malcolm McDowell. So you know what you're getting yourself into.

I hope that weirdo headmaster sprang for some nice drawer liners at the very least.

Actors That Need to Be Saved from Themselves, Professionally: Shia LaBeouf

Remember back in the early naughties when we were first introduced to Louis Stevens, known in the real world as Shia LaBeouf?

What simple times those were. LaBeouf was merely a goofy child star then. He annoyed perfectionist sister Ren and formed awesome supergroups with his best friend Twitty each week on the Disney Channel. It was fantastic. His lead role in Holes a few years later would only cement his wholesome and largely lovable image.

After some tiny roles in I, Robot and Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle, LaBeouf began his transition to grown-up stardom with under-the-radar projects like The Greatest Game Ever Played, A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints and Bobby (they were generally well-received). The big breakthrough, however, came in Disturbia, after which he blew up into a bonafide celebrity.

Now, Disturbia was obviously not a masterpiece for anyone involved, but it was decent. Unfortunately, LaBeouf's subsequent movies would only plummet in quality. While I can't speak for Surf's Up, I did see The Beef's next next movie, Transformers. Obviously not my favorite, but I figured he's allowed one "fun," stupid movie. However, what came next was Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, during which he swung from trees with CGI monkeys. Sadly only one of several WTF moments from that movie, whose awfulness I tried my best to deny for Cate Blanchett and the original Indiana Jones movies' sake, but which was eventually unavoidable.

Two massive misses in a row, what does LaBeouf do? Make a shitty amalgamation of every sci-fi thriller with a talking computer ever named Eagle Eye and another Transformers movie of course! And guess what his next project is? Wall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps. I'm not kidding. Michael Douglas is back, and teaming up with Shia to "alert the financial community to the coming doom and to find out who was responsible for the death of the young trader's mentor."

I know that a new Wall Street is extremely relevant now and that Gordon Gekko is an awesome character, but that sounds way too much like a fake, Mad Libs-generated movie. Maybe Oliver Stone is playing an elaborate trick on all of us, and actually making a prequel to JFK focused on British Prime Minister Harold Macmillian and John Kennedy's relationship.

(Bigger photos available here and here.)

Anyway, Shia LaBeouf might as well hire me as his manager now, because I have an extensive plan to save him from entering Vin Diesel territory. It's a commitment, to be sure; this is at least a five- to ten-year plan. But if he doesn't hop on it soon, it may get bumped up to twenty.

Okay, so first of all, and I know this is going to be hard to understand, cut all ties with Steven Spielberg. Yes, he's put you in lots of blockbusters, but he's also overexposed you, pegged you as franchise-happy and typecast you as a slightly uncool action hero. Your career will not survive if it continues this way. Even Harrison Ford made some non-commercial movies.

Next, lay off the big-budget action flicks. For the love of all things that are pure and wonderful in this world, do not sign on for Transformers 3. I don't want you near a movie with a single explosion. Not even one in a microwave. Take a few months to carefully read over some scripts and look for supporting roles. You need to slowly reenter the Hollywood scene, because you're nearing public disdain. And these supporting roles? They're going to be in dramedies. I like that you took a part in New York, I Love You. The cast and directors aren't nearly as impressive or credible as the ones in Paris, je t'aime, but they're a helluva lot better than Megan Fox and Michael Bay. And you got in a segment with Julie Christie where you're looking pretty classy. Good job. Let's continue this.

You're not lovable enough to attempt this yet, but in time, you may also want to reconsider your comedy roots. The only reason I'm even bothering to figure out how to save your sorry career is because I have fond middle school memories of Even Stevens (and Bobby wasn't bad, either). If you can replicate your past comedic success, you're set. Perhaps a self-deprecating role as a slightly douchey young actor? God it's a shame Extras isn't on the air anymore.

After a few years of doing what I described above, you should be ready for lead roles again and have gained some more long-term staying power. If you pull this off really well, you may even be able to throw in another action movie or two, a la Matt Damon. But seriously, heed my words, Shia. You won't get rid of that unfortunate new nickname of yours (LaDouche), or Michael Bay, otherwise.

Bright Star & Up in the Air, or Anguish & Airports

After two posts chronicling my celebrity-induced insanity, it's time to make this blog slightly more legit again. Maybe even too legit to quit. But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

So, as mentioned previously, I was lucky enough to snag tickets to both Bright Star and Up in the Air during the London Film Festival. Obviously, I have thoughts on them, which I'd like to share with you. Let's start with the first movie I saw: Up in the Air.

My expectations for this one were pretty freakin' high. This was due to several factors: a) it's the third full-length film by Jason Reitman; b) it features Vera Farmiga, Jason Bateman, J.K. Simmons and even Zach Galifianakis; c) it's been buzzed about since September. And while Jason Reitman was absolutely right -- it did make me (more than) a little sad -- I thought it was a fantastically well-made and extremely relevant movie.

First, an adequate plot synopsis. Ryan Bingham (George Clooney) flies a lot. So much, in fact, that he's aiming to become one of the select few to reach 10 million miles. Why does he travel so much? His job is to fire people whose bosses are too lazy or scared to do it themselves. Strangely, Ryan loves his life and loathes the few days of the year he spends at "home." 

Then, this Ivy League go-getter (Anna Kendrick) joins his company and decides to economize by firing over webcams. Ryan is outraged, not only because it will finally root him somewhere but also because it's downright cruel. His unmoved boss (Bateman) asks him to show the new girl the ropes as they prepare her revolutionary system.  

Ryan also meets his female equivalent (Farmiga) along the way, and considers abandoning their shared commitment phobia.

I was kinda bummed that they didn't let Jason Bateman do anything with his role, and that J.K. Simmons was limited to one (admittedly marvelous) scene, but otherwise I have no complaints. This is a rare movie that feels like it's real -- there's little glamour and a whole lot of familiar job losses and setbacks instead. Even if you've yet to enter the job market, the themes of lost direction are something that us college students have no problem identifying with. It's probably a topic we'd rather forget, but if you don't mind harsh reality in movies, few pull it off more deftly than Up in the Air.

Also, George Clooney was incredible in this. I went into it expecting an only mildly serious turn from him, but he was freakin' heartbreaking in some scenes. He was also, as expected, perfect in the more comedic situations. I just about died when -- in reply to Anna Kendrick's character's angry query "Who breaks up with someone over text message?!" -- he cooly says, "Kinda like firing someone over the Internet." That was some massive paraphrasing on my part, but still.

Finally, I have to give props to Anna Kendrick. Like most people, I only know her as Twilight girl, and was thus a little apprehensive about her part in this movie. But she was just as wonderful as Clooney and Farmiga (the only one who I was already expecting a lot from). Hopefully she distances herself as much as possible from vampires in the future.

Annnnd now for Bright Star.

I swear I'm not going to get super fangirl-y like I did in my last Ben Whishaw-related post, but I gotta say this: Jane Campion could not have pandered to his smitten fans more if she tried. Casting him as a poet is already swoon-inducing enough. Add in an adorable Scottish jig, a beautiful choir solo, an awesome top hat, a cute love of Fanny's cat and an angry outburst towards his asshole buddy who's macking on Fanny and you have hundreds of girls reduced to putty in Ben Whishaw's delicate, poetry-writing hands.

But it's an extremely romantic, extremely tragic and extremely beautiful movie on its own. Obviously the true life story plays a major role in this, but so many of the shots are breathtakingly gorgeous. Consider the following.

Like I said, gorgeous. And that's not even counting the image on the other poster. If nothing else, Bright Star better get a Cinematography nod at the Oscars. And Costume Design. But that one's expected. I mean, how on earth do you beat this?

The soundtrack is also beautiful, and Ben and Abbie Cornish are perfect together. She's feisty and amusing, he's, as previously mentioned, too adorable to put into actual words. There's not much else I can say about it. 

Okay, I will add that my graphic professor, a former BBC radio personality and all-around awesome guy, took a good two minutes to praise this movie when someone mentioned Keats in class today. He usually doesn't sidetrack much, but he was absolutely fawning over Bright Star. Wonderful and Jane Campion's best movie yet, he said. Trust me, if it's good enough for Chris Cook, it's good enough for you. He makes delicious salmon and can dissect Four Weddings and a Funeral like no one's business.

Now take us out, Ben.

December 14: The Day a Room with Padded Walls Becomes My New Home

I'm really trying to stay composed here, guys. Really trying. But you see, I have news that is likely to keep me awake for the rest of the night/month. And there's no other way for me to express it but this:

SHERLOCK HOLMES WORLD PREMIERE IN LONDON ON DECEMBER 14TH. OHMYGOD GUYS IS THIS REAL LIFE I MIGHT SEE ROBERT DOWNEY JR MY FAVORITE PERSON EVER SOMEONE PLEASE DRUG ME CANNOT HANDLE THIS AT ALL OH MY GODDDDDDDDDD.

Yes, it's true. My flatmate just informed me, and laughed really hard at my subsequent facial expression. I'd imagine it was a Hans Grüber falling off the building at the end of Die Hard meets Jack Torrance chasing his son in The Shining meets any chick flick heroine doing a private little dance of joy after being asked out by the guy of her dreams kind of face. And I realize that you guys must be sick of my incessant Sherlock Holmes ravings, and cannot possibly be as excited about this news as I am, but please try to understand.

This. 

May be in front of my face.

In about one month.

I believe the wikipedia images accompanying the page for "hysteria" best sum up my current condition. Particularly the one of the far left. And, well, all of them.

The London Film Festival, in Exhaustively Lengthy and Mildly Crazed Review

So, as many of you have already seen on my facebook profile, this past week was full of red carpet, blurry celebrity photos and wild hysterics on my part. It wasn't easy cramming four premieres, and two screenings, into a week which included a visit from my parents and aunt as well as midterms. In fact, it was pretty freakin' exhausting. But it was totally worth it.

The festival kicked off with Fantastic Mr. Fox. The premiere was listed as 7 and 7:30, so we arrived around 6.

Big mistake.

As we quickly learned, if you're going to stalk a red carpet, you gotta commit. One hour? The celebrity stalking vets would laugh in our faces if they knew. Try two or three hours and THEN we can talk to them. For we were not only unable to get into the main arena where all the autographs happened, we were stuck four rows back from the gate in front of a raised platform that some of the VIPs walked down. Oh and they would turn the other way upon reaching its end. Definitely not ideal, but we were prepared to scream, cry and sing for Meryl Streep when she floated by. Sadly, that moment never came, because Meryl flaked. I later read that she had the flu. Right, "the flu." If by having the flu, you mean having no empathy for your devoted fans who left class early for you, then yeah, you have the flu. (Though I do like Meryl, my outrage is more on behalf of one of my friends, who was absolutely devastated.)

However, towards the end, after neither Wes Anderson nor Jason Schwartzmann had walked by, I looked into the distance and saw something wonderful. "Guys, that's George Clooney," I said. "What?" my friends said. "No it's not, Kristin. What are you talking ab-- GEORGE!" He streaked by in a tux with his Italian Barbie girlfriend and in an instant his beauty, like a shooting star, had disappeared. It was the first really surreal moment of the festival.

The next day was the premiere of The Men Who Stare at Goats, a.k.a. our second shot at seeing George and first try at finding the singing cuteness that is Ewan McGregor. We got there two hours early this time, and were just one row behind the gate, perpendicular to the paparazzi. This time, there was no waiting around while people we didn't know traipsed undeservedly across the red carpet. George was one of the first ones there, and he was really nice to all the fans. I wasn't in a position to ask for an autograph, but I got some close, non-blurry photos of that gorgeous man and looked on with delight as he joked with some of the lucky front rowers. He even came around a second time before posing for the paparazzi and leaving. Oh, and he decided to jokingly "adjust" his suit in front of us before braving the photographers. It resulted in this hilarious photo:

Sadly though, Ewan pulled a Meryl and disappointed us. This one, in my opinion, was even more inexcusable. I don't think he was actually expected to attend, but, dude, you're Scottish! Show some British solidarity/pride.

Neve Campbell and Rachel from S Club 7 also made cameos. It was hella random.

And then this cute old man started making the rounds. I honestly had no idea who he was, but people seemed to be making a big deal about him. "Ask him for his autograph, and we'll find out who he is," my friend said. So I did. When I looked down it said, "John Hurt." I kinda flipped. And then felt extremely embarrassed that I didn't recognize him. (In my defense, he looks wildly different between each of his movies.)

After Men Who Stare at Goats, we got a two-day reprieve from the festival during which I hung out with my parents and aunt. Then on Sunday, the Up in the Air premiere arrived. George had already cancelled, and it was at a much smaller theater, so this one was vastly more low-key. However, we were hoping to meet Michael Bluth Jason Bateman. I'll cut to the chase and tell you that he didn't show up, either (god damn that's a lot of unfulfilled anticipation). However, we did get to meet Vera Farmiga, best known as the two-timing shrink in The Departed, who is coincidentally a Syracuse drama alum.

As she made her way towards us, in some awesome purple heels, we shouted, "We go to Syracuse!" Signing my friend's notebook, she excitedly responded, "You do?!" We explained quickly that we were in the abroad program. She smiled, and I told her I love The Departed (had to) and she left. But before that, I had an even nerdier encounter with a barely-qualifies-as-celebrity figure: Jason Reitman.

The fact that I was able to recognize him already tells you that I like Thank You for Smoking and Juno way too much. But you'd think he was some heartthrob leading man the way I was behaving when he came by. As he signed stuff, I broke out my obligatory, "Can I just say that I love Thank You for Smoking and Juno?!" Now, based on my overall experience this past week, celebrities are so used to compliments on their movies that they might respond with a polite thank you, but that's about it. Jason, however, noticeably changed the tone of his voice and said, "Aw thank you. I hope you like this one, too." Having frantically secured one of the last tickets to the Tuesday Up in the Air screening weeks ago, I had to say, "I can't wait to see it!" That's usually all the conversation you get, but he squeezed in, "It might make you a little sad, though" before moving on. I didn't really know what to say to that, so I giggled. (Also, he was right. But more on that later.)

Finally, on Monday I attended the Bright Star premiere. This was the only one I would attend alone, but by far the most exciting. See, it officially being midterm week, most smart and sane people were studying. Besides, no one extremely famous is in this movie. But I was on a mission to find Ben Whishaw, and I refused to let myself (or his even more loyal fan Tarra) down.

So I waited a few hours. Then, he arrived. I kept my eyes glued to his movements by the press aisle the entire time, waiting for my moment to pounce. I was kinda in between the press and paparazzi aisles, and most of the guests were quickly stopping by our section after being photographed. So as Ben posed for the pictures, my anticipation grew. I had already texted news of his arrival with my hand visibly shaking, and was suppressing the urge to scream. This level of excitement was way more than I had expected, but it's Ben, so it's completely warranted. Anyway, I had been chatting with the guy next to me, who had commented that I didn't have any autographs. "I'm waiting for Ben," I told him. "Well you better scream when he breaks away," he said. "Oh, I so am. You should do it with me." So when Ben finally finished, just minutes before the premiere start time, we both shouted "BEN!" Mine was way louder, and no one else had yelled or even shown much interest in the mesmerizing Mr. Whishaw. He actually turned his head and looked in my direction (AAAAHH) but then was turned around and ushered inside (NOOOOOO).

At this point, my body froze. Did this really just happen? Did I wait for hours, rocking on my feet and patiently watching him talk to press members, for nothing? How could life (and Ben) be so cruel? I was really, really upset, but then some expensive black cars pulled up to the entrance. I had never seen this happen before, and the cars were kept running, so I had to make sure Ben wasn't making a quick exit. After about 25 minutes, I was losing faith and contemplating leaving to go home and cry in a ball on my bed. But then I saw him in the hall. He opened the door and walked outside, and I wasn't taking any chances. I screamed his name again, and he promptly continued walking STRAIGHT TOWARDS ME. "Sorry I didn't stop earlier," he said. "Oh it's fine," I said in a state of utter delirium. I asked him if he could sign something for me. Pitifully, all I had was my planner. I opened to a page in July of this year and handed him my cheesy SU Abroad pen, saying, "Sorry, this is all I have." He said it was fine (!) and then said something magical, "What's your name?" Probably blushing and definitely screaming on the inside, I told him it was Kristin and spelled it out for him when he hesitated. As he was signing, I had to whip out, "I think you're fantastic by the way." Didn't even mention a movie that time. Nope, it was just about him. He said thank you. Again, I was delirious, so I was far from done and added as he moved to the next person, "It's a shame more people don't know you in the States!"

For a sec after that, I was extremely scared that I had insulted Ben Whishaw. I mean, he could take that as a back-handed compliment, right? Like, "sucks that no one knows you, man." But I meant that he's so wonderful that his lack of mega-stardom is inexcusable! Luckily, I think I was alright, as Ben didn't say much to anyone (aw, he's shy) and thus I didn't make much of his non-response.

I quickly peeked at my planner and saw, to my astonishment, the inscription, "To Kristin. With love, Ben Whishaw." I was already freaking out that he had asked my name (not one celebrity at the festival had done that for anyone so far), but he added "with love"! You all know what that means: he's legitimately in love with me. Mission accomplished.

Ben did speak once more, saying to the crowd, "Thank you for waiting out in the cold," with a slight, embarrassed, "I feel guilty" chuckle, which was incredibly endearing. And he let us take some pictures. Then, he disappeared into the black car and was gone. But I was over the moon. Too bad no one else gave a damn (except for the guy next to me, I had to explain to basically the entire group that he was the star of the movie...and they were all British). Whatever, it was their loss. My autograph is now proudly tacked to my bulletin board, and I am currently praying to every god in every religion known to man that he does not recognize me when I wait after his play, too, and see me for the massive creep that I am.

Wow, sorry that was so long, guys. (Despite the title, I really didn't realize I was blabbing about Ben Whishaw so much until I hit "preview.") But look out for part 2, in which I review Up in the Air and Bright Star, after I return from fall break on November 1!