Tonight, Brad and I snuck away to a late showing of The Host.  I read the book years ago when it first came out, and it wasn't really my Cuppa Tea, but I was into Stephenie Meyer at the time, so of course I had to read everything she wrote.

When we saw the trailer a month ago, Brad didn't think it looked too terrible, and I was interested in seeing how it would be in movie form, so we made a date.  It's the rare movie we both want to see, so we had to take advantage.

Our consensus after seeing the movie = meh.  

The whole two-characters-occupying-the-same-body thing was awkward, and the actress playing that body was super irritating.  In fact, the whole film felt staged and awkward.  It was a good reminder that not just anyone can make a slick, quality movie--I guess film-making isn't as easy as the great film-makers make it look.

However, it did provide fodder for some snide whispers between Brad and me that left me laughing hard enough to go home with smeared mascara.  If you look closely, you can see the streaks.