Rating: 15/20
Plot: Following a fancy party, a wife reveals to her husband that she might be in love with a dead boy who's getting a little snow on him.
Apologies for that poster up there. I might not care anymore.
Apologies for not caring anymore, too.
Not much plot in this one really, aside from "a wife reveals to her husband that she might be in love with a dead boy who's getting a little snow on him," a plot synopsis that either further proves I don't care or is somehow really clever. This is based on James Joyce's probably best-known short story, but I haven't read that since college and was probably not mature enough back then to fully appreciate it. I'm a lot nearer to having snow covering my grade now than I was then assuming time keeps working like it's supposed to, and while I didn't find this engaging from beginning to end--who wants to watch this kind of party anyhow?--the last fifteen minutes hammers home something profound.
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