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.
