Watched Nights in Rodanthe last night. Let me summarize it for you:
Her: “I am a damaged person but I am hopeful and still believe in love now that you are here with me in this windswept oceanfront house, Richard Gere.”
Him: “Yes, Diane Lane. I, too, am damaged by that woman I accidentally killed. However, now that I am the only guest in this romantic bed and breakfast that you happen to be looking after for your friend, I am strangely hopeful now, too. I will protect you from the impending hurricane by boinking you most vigorously. I hope it won’t bother you that tomorrow I must leave to tend to the sick in the third world.”
Her: “No sweat. We can write each other letters until you come back.”
LATER:
Him in a letter: “I cannot wait to start our lives together.”
Her, on a white garden bench surrounded by flowers: Sniff, sniff. Wistful smile.
LATER:
Him: SPLAT.
Her: Ummmm, shouldn’t he have arrived from the airport by now?
The end.
The worst piece of deus ex machina I have seen in a really long time. (BriJohn: Look it up.)
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