Stack of Spines

I only ever see the movie after I’ve read the book in 3 circumstances.

(1) If it’s one of my favorite books ever, I will watch.  You can’t argue with seeing Harry Potter.  I can argue with seeing it at Midnight on a weekday, but not with seeing it ever.

(2) I like the actors/setting/something catches my eye.  If Colin Firth is in it, you bet your sample sale cashmere gloves I’ll be there.  Pride and Prejudice + the BBC America Version on DVD (yes, all 5 hours) + tea + a warm blanket = manna from heaven.

(3) I think the movie will improve upon the book.  Vary rarely does this happen (Cold Mountain anyone?) but sometimes my curiosity gets the best of me.  Or because I think I want to see it out of curiosity and then I don’t pay attention to the order of my Netflix queue for a while.  If it arrives, I’ll try.

Just call me Confessions of a Shopaholic hater.  Ok, maybe I won’t go that far, but I did think this was pretty awful.  In this case, I thought I’d watch it “just to compare” and see if it could be improved upon, because I certainly thought there was a lot to improve upon.  It came in the mail recently and I was sorely disappointed.

For Confessions of a Shopaholic, it was as if they took all the redeeming qualities and ruined them.  In the movie, Becky Bloomwood was an overzealous American spender.  What’s so strange about that?  In my opinion, not much.  She would have been much better had she remained a Brit with a quasi accent.  Her roommate, instead of being warm, rich, and comforting, turned into a harsh, slightly crazy, brightly colored hot mess.  All the endearing people in the book came across as annoying, parents included.

And there’s just something that feels wrong about reading/seeing someone evade their credit card bills.  Or buying an expensive scarf on your lunch hour with six different credit cards and $20 cash you took from a stranger who thought it was for your dying aunt.

Then again, blatantly escapist chick lit is not usually my thing.  I have to be in the right mood.

I’m not entirely giving up on Sophie Kinsella though.  I have The Undomestic Goddess in my stack right now.  If it stinks, my standard 1-2 rule (1 author + 2 bad books = I don’t read anymore of their work) will force me to quit.