Keep the DaVinci Code Under Lock and Key

Ron Howard, you are dead to me. DEAD. Not only that, but I think I’ve lost my penchant for redheads. And it’s YOUR fault, Ron. You did this to me. To ME, Ron. After everything we’ve been through. Cocoon, A Beautiful Mind...Splash, for God’s sake. Did that mean nothing to you?

Clearly it did not.

I was so looking forward to the DaVinci Code. I loved the book. Ran out and bought Dan Brown’s other three books and practically swallowed them whole.

I have to admit that when you announced Tom Hanks would play Robert Langdon I was a bit perturbed. I simply didn’t feel that Tom was Langdon. Harrison Ford. Now that's a Robert Langdon. But you know what, Ron? I trusted you. I said to myself, “Self. Don’t you worry. Ronnie would never let you down.”

Sigh…

I could get over the fact that Tom Hanks’ looked like a crow had died on his head. A sick crow with some sort of disease that caused its feathers to be slightly greasy.



Know what I can't forgive, Ron? The crappy dialogue, almost non-existent plot, annoying French tart sidekick, and characters with zero redeeming qualities whatsoever. Want to know Ron’s secret recipe for making a DaVinci Code movie? Take one part Joe Versus the Volcano, one part Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, and one part Glitter. Stir vigorously then pour down the drain. Voila!

Let’s talk about the tart for a mo'. Audrey Tautou. When I saw her in the previews I thought she was just adorable. A tiny little soufflé of spunk and sass. And then she talks. I can think of about 27 times during the movie when you hope that Ron Howard will deviate from the story and kill off her character. Would you like some cheese with that whine, Audrey? No? Then ferme la bouche. Or as we say in American, shut your pie hole. (It’s odd that the French think Americans are crass, don’t you think?)

And as for you, Mr. Hanks. What in the name of Forrest Gump were you thinking? Did you think the movie-going public would be so enthralled by your superstardom and the conspiracy theories that they wouldn’t recognize bad acting when they saw it? Puhlease. As my grandmother would say, “Yo nací de noche pero no anoche.” (Translation: I was born at night but not last night. Deep, yes?)

Where was I, Ron? Oh yes. Look, the thing is, I really wanted to love this movie. I really wanted to come out all fired up. Instead I walked out feeling like I’d just gotten a terrible haircut and some junior stylist had given me micro-bangs and I felt betrayed and bewildered and I wondered who would ever love me again with micro-bangs? Do you understand Ron?



No. I’m guessing you don’t.