Just keep walkin'

I just went to see The Piano Tuner of Earthquakes with my friend John. I've never walked out of a film before, but half an hour or so before the end of the film I realised that if I sat there for just one more minute of that mind-numbingly pretentious wank, I'd scream. Or die. Or most likely, die screaming. And later, the nice people at the Renoir cinema would have to peel our dessicated corpses off the astoundingly uncomfortable seats in order to allow the poor suckers who were destined to unwittingly pay good, honest, hard-earned money to see the 'film' the following day entrance.

Please don't let it be you.