Please, let me never need to watch any more of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? again.
I realize it’s vaunted. I understand people like it.
Here’s the truth: I don’t. And I sure as heck ain’t forcing myself to get through the rest of it.
That’s right, I didn’t finish the movie. I only started it recently because it was on and I realized this was one hallowed film I still hadn’t seen.
Too bad I didn’t let it remain that way.
Lots of screeching, via Liz Taylor and Richard Burton. Not fun. There didn’t even seem to be a crescendo … just one wobbly plateau.
This just isn’t my shot of bourbon. If I want a flick about marital difficulties, I’ll choose Far From the Madding Crowd. Really.
And remain in the minority for all my moviegoing life. So be it.