Hot Fuzz

If you see no other movie this year, see Hot Fuzz.

It may have been the best movie of my year. I laughed continuously for two hours, probably deeply upsetting other theatre patrons. It was, in a word, brilliant. I’ve always been a fan of British comedy, of course, but…oh, God. Just go see it. Swans, clergymen packing heat, insane neighborhood associations…

…which makes me wonder about the Mendocino Historical Review Board, let me tell you.

I went with a friend who swore up and down all through dinner that it was the best movie ever, and then fretted that I wouldn’t love it nearly as much as she did. However, her movie advice proved true. I needed, so very much, to laugh for two hours and forget about everything else that’s going on. So much that I might even do it again tomorrow, no matinee prices on Sundays be damned. My sweet lord.

Wandering through the City afterwards, we chortled continuously, garnering strange looks from the drunk people staggering in the streets. Somehow, though, it just didn’t matter, as we said “and then that part where, yeah, oh God, that was so funny.” I have a feeling I’ll be spending all of Sunday smirking.