Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed...

I'm not a crier. Anybody who knows me know's that - I mean, seriously, the day after my Grandmother passed away, I was sitting on my bed making my friends laugh...I won't lie, a part of me was dying inside, but it did it in private, quietly and quite dryly. I'm just not a crier.

So trust me when I tell you that I can count on one hand, the times a movie made me emotional:
1) The Lion King (come on, who DIDN'T cry when Mufasa died?! If Hitler was around, I bet you even he would have been bawling).
2) Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows (When Dobby died...)
3) Troy.

Can you believe it? Troy turned the waterworks on. Of all things...Troy.
And it wasn't because of some mushy love scene either, and it wasn't some sappy dialogue...it was when Paris shot Achilles through the heel. I know how the myth goes, I did read Greek Mythology at campus last year, besides of which, you all know what an avid reader I generally am...but in this movie, Paris was a pathetic, lilly livered, spineless jellyfish, who didn't deserve the glory of killing the greatest warrior that lived - yet it was his. And, can I point out, that every time Orlando delivered a line I had the inexplicable urge to burst out laughing. I cried because of the unfairness of it all. It wasn't full on tears...my voice just went wobbly and my eyes stung (ok, so maybe there were a few salty drops), and maybe...when Paris called to Briseis to leave with him, I might have shouted at the television screen in fury (much to Bobs stunned surprise and amusement), "Fuck off!"

But there is no way you can disagree with me on this: Achilles deserved a more heroic death...and Paris was a little bitch

P.s. As I'm sure you've all deduced by now, I LOVED the movie. I don't know why it's taken me so many years to finally watch it. And honestly, Eric Bana and Brad Pitt are the only two men alive who can wear skirts, and still look hot.