MOVIE: The Da Vinci Code

Anyone who has read Dan Brown's book, The Da Vinci Code and then sees "the movie" is going to spontaneously jam their pinky finger into their own eye sockets and frantically reduce their eyeballs to red mushy paste. "The movie" more closely resembles a plump, nearly-bursting colostomy bag than it does the book of the same name! As a film, it rapidly springs a leak and merrily sprays its rancid contents all over the expectant fans of the novel. And the ungodly stink lasts for days.

The movie absolutely butchers the plot of the book. Dr. Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks) is a flimsy shell of the character barely recognizable as the protagonist that captivated me to the point that I couldn't stop reading. Silas (Paul Bettany) doesn't strike any sense of fear or suspense in the movie like he does in the book. Opus Dei is presented like a freakish cult rather than a modern offshoot of the Catholic church. And the entire sub-plot centered around Langon's revelation of the genocidal assault on "the sacred feminine" is suspiciously absent.

I don't advise any man, woman, child, or even a Communist to watch this movie, under any conditions that don't include confinement at Gitmo.

I don't know what vile, wicked, heinous things I did in life that lead me to the moment that I rented this back-room abortion of a movie. I'll never be able to recover the hour and change that I wasted while mentally retching to it. I can only hope some day science invests a drug or electrical therapy that will help me purge it from my mind. I'll certainly never clean its stink off my poor mutilated soul.