(~simul iustus & peccator~) (lovelies) wrote,
(~simul iustus & peccator~)
lovelies

You know how sometimes we make snap judgements on people based on purely superficial qualities. Their mannerisms, facial expressions, the timbre of their voices can endear them to us, or make us hate their guts in a split-second without anything rational backing it up. For no discernible reason we reject some people, like so much oil and water.

Ralph Fiennes is one of these people that I think I have an instinctual disliking for. He has just creeped me out from the moment I first saw him on the screen, as a girl of fourteen. Gives me the shudders, he does.

I'm mostly neutral to Joseph Fiennes. I don't mind watching his movies, even though I've never actively sought them out. He's really a bit of all right, except when he crunches his eyes in the way that makes him look like his brother, which then will have me squirming in my seat for a good five minutes after.

So, I saw Red Dragon yesterday.

As a curiosity, when he wakes up in the bed and looks up, stretching his face, he looks just like Joseph for about half a second, almost innocent. They're like Lucifer before and after the fall, the pair of them.

I have now been exposed to wiggly Ralph Fiennes butt, and rub though I might my eyes, it's not going away. That was the most traumatizing and nauseating scene of the movie, although a part of me did scream internally at the ripping of the Blake painting.

Murders? There were murders? What murders? I saw no murders. I SAW RALPH FIENNES' FAUX-TATTOOED ASS.

I knew I shouldn't have watched it.
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