First, a disclaimer: I intend to see this movie. Of this, let there be no doubt. It is, in my mind, the second in a horrendously awful trilogy of films that must be seen this year (the first being King Kong, and the third, Snakes on a Plane -- I am easily entertained by Dino fights, atrocious theology and, well, snakes on planes).
That being said, A.O. Scott's review of The Da Vinci Code is a literary gem (though a week old, I know, I know; but life is so very hectic right now with all the vast amounts of nothingness that bombard me each and every day). I say that (the literary gem part), mostly because I'm a former English major (four full semesters!), but also because I love making fun of things like Tom Hanks' haircut and Ron Howard films and Dan Brown (in general). A short sample from the review should give you the idea:
To their credit the director and his screenwriter, Akiva Goldsman (who collaborated with Mr. Howard on "Cinderella Man" and "A Beautiful Mind"), have streamlined Mr. Brown's story and refrained from trying to capture his, um, prose style. "Almost inconceivably, the gun into which she was now staring was clutched in the pale hand of an enormous albino with long white hair." Such language, note the exquisite "almost" and the fastidious tucking of the "which" after the preposition, can live only on the page.
What I love, love, love the most is that I felt the same exact way, though I never got to the particular sentence Mr. Scott points out; I put the book down somewhere around page one -- when the Albino was flaying himself with something sharp or sinewy or otherwise ouchy instead of just saying his Hail Mary's and getting on with the act grace. But I bought the book for a penny (hardcover, no less), so no big loss. My parents have both read it, and are charging through the rebuttal book I purchased at the same time, which, again, I never really read. I had more pressing things (like Steve Engleheart's mid-70's run on the Avengers) to waste my time on.
Mr. Scott's review in its entirety can be viewed here. Registration might be required; I can never remember what parts of the NY Times' website call for it.
So go forth, my friends. Happy viewing!