pleasure & payne

I went to see my second husband last night.

My two best friends were gracious enough to a) invite me out after my crappy football day and b) choose a movie starring my favorite scowling tough guy/former Funky Bunch frontman. Plus they waited a few minutes while I changed out of my cursed Cowboy gear and into something more Hip Mom Going to Hot Guy Action Movie. We went to our favorite outrageously overpriced trendy gourmet theater, Cinetopia, where we severely confused the waitress with our crazy requests to split the bill and sit in the restaurant while we waited for the movie to start. I caused further turmoil when I asked for a Seven Layer Bar, which was no longer in the nearest cold case but instead "on the other side of concessions" (there were 3 possible places it could be and I couldn't find it at any of them).

After this much ado, we prepared to melt into our seats from the sheer hotness of Mark Wahlberg along with the smokey goodness of Christopher Bridges, aka Ludacris. There was a momentary worry that we would have to put a smackdown on the dudes in front of us who seemed unaware that every time they texted [as the movie was starting; WTF?], their freaking iPhones lit up like beacons. But our kind reminders were enough and we settled in for the fantastic pleasure of Max Payne.

Like Wanted, this was brain candy with lava-hot eye candy filling. Max Payne's story is slightly more credible but in the end, it was a who-cares-how-unbelievable-it-is-I-am-blissfully-enthralled thrill ride of a movie. There was nothing not to love about it, unless you are immune to the sensitive tough-guy appeal of Mr. Wahlberg or can't appreciate the studious yet charmingly cocky nature of Mr. Bridges (Ludacris, that is, not Beau; he was actually a tad overdone). The explosions, the gunfights, the mysterious & spooky Valkyries, those beautiful furrowed brows...

Let me feel your pain...