Roses are red, violets are blue... fuck you, whore.

Who wouldn't want to buy a card that said that? I would.

I watched (500) Days of Summer last Saturday with a couple of friends. All I have to say it it's a friggin' amazing movie. Well, maybe that's not all I have to say--I'm writing a review after all.

I think it's definitely tied or even taken the top spot of Juno in my fave movie list. H'yeah!

I need to watch it again just to make sure. :D

This review will consist of two parts--that is if I don't fall off track while writing this.

I.

I don't think I've ever felt so good about a film than I have about this one. Marc Webb's directorial debut takes on the often-told story of lovers and fate and twists it into something more brilliant and more genuine in its own quirky way.

What makes this movie so good is the fact that it hits close to home. One way or another, you've already gone through Tom's heartbreak or Summer's realization that it comes off as more than just their story but yours as well. As the movie played on, I felt my own "experiences" surging back as vivid as could be, and undoubtedly, everybody else I'm sure the same was true for everybody else as well--that is considering they aren't heartless creatures.

Not to mention Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel put a new spin unto the characters, making them more solid and more believable. Their portrayals were smack on of the boy who's been looking for love and the girl who believes it's as real as Santa Claus. I don't know how else the characters would have gone without them. And quite frankly, their chemistry kills.

The comic kick is straightforward and smart. Its twisted hyperboles puts to life all those feelings you can't simply describe in feeble words--it gives you something more close to your heart than it is to the physical world. And the music jived ever so smoothly with the story.

Other films portray something that might have been for any random dream, but this one just hits the spot and tells something more. (500) Days of Summer stays true to it's first quip: it isn't a love story. No, because it's too true to be just one.

II.

Gahd, this movie. The moment I got off my seat, I fell in love. Like cupid hit me with arrow--the arrow being a metaphorical symbol for the movie, if you actually need that explanation. With whom did I fall in love with? I have no clue. But I was struck and in a daze.

I was practically floating out of the movie house. And walking around Greenhills, I could've been arrested for being high on pot or something. Yes, it was intense. (Disclaimer: I was not high on pot, mind you... that is unless the peanuts in my M'n'Ms were spiked.)

There's this part in front of V-Mall with those big posts, and I was so high, I suddenly leaned on one of them and stared up blankly with some kind of lovestruck daze. Sigh, I said. And I was greeted with something along the lines of "You're high" or "You're in love." Yes, I'm a loser, shut up! (But I bet you are too.)

The rest of the night consisted of love songs and random words hovering out into the street. I dunno how many people I probably freaked out with my sudden bursts of "I wanna hold you hand..." (Yes, the Beatles song.) I swear, I could've gone singing-in-the-rain with that lamp post in front of Club Filipino had I not come to my senses at the exact second I touched that post. It's one swing away from cuckoo, and I almost crossed that border.

To pass time, we walked to the playground in North Greenhills, and all the way I kept blabbing on like some mad dude. While playing with the seesaw, I suddenly for some odd reason placed sexual innuendos on all the rides. When I had finally collapsed on the swing, I was already dreaming of weddings, kisses and what-nots. I think I finally mellowed down when I played my slow-dance songs and started imagining.

I don't think I've ever been that way because of a movie. It's like pot, only better--and not deadly! It's called love. Sigh...