Heading into Oscar season, The Hurt Locker seems to be gathering the most momentum. It's universally loved by critics, scoring a gaudy 97 on RottenTomatoes.com. All of the people I know who've seen it profess to like it. Both of 'em. Yes, everyone acclaims, it is one damned fine movie.
It's also a movie I walked out of. With about 20 minutes to go.
Not that it was horrible. It was not. It's well-crafted, well acted. It just bored me. About the fourth time our protagonist was slowly defusing a bomb that might or might not go off, the ritual had for me become dull routine. And I reached a tipping point: with 20 minutes left to go, I realized that my lack of interest had reached such a state of inertia, the movie wasn't going to be able to budge it. "I'd rather get to bed early," I thought.
And then I watched the adoring reviews roll in. Those must have been some 20 minutes.
Hurt Locker was unusual in that my hooks are usually much, much faster. Take the latest Sherlock Holmes. Thirty minutes in, I found my mind wandering. For as unusual as this take was on Holmes, it was far from a unique take on modern bombastic CGI crapfests. Seen 'em. Next.
Prior to that, I think Shrek 3 was the last film I'd bolted. I loved the first two Shreks, but the third one was a nonsensical, empty-headed cash-in. By the time frogs were singing "Live or Let Die," I was thinking I'd really rather not sully my memories of the first two films any further. End scene.
Ah, Natural Born Killers. I found it a heavy-handed and unbearable piece o'crap. I don't remember much, other that not being able to afford the price of the ticket and afterward feeling positively nauseous about having wasted the money.
I ran out of Moulin Rogue about a half-hour in, during the intolerably shrill and stupid scene with Ewan McGregor hiding from the Duke in Nicole Kidman's bedroom. It made me want to claw my eyes and ears off. Later, I gave the film a second chance at home. I still hate that scene and, indeed, skip it entirely. But man, did that film rebound afterward. I'm fond of it now.
I'll never forget that Fucking Amy's Dad walked out on Sleepless in Seattle because of its obvious moral decay: "John, you won't believe this, but they...they...they showed a girl lying sleepless next to her fiance...in bed!"
Can you top that inanity? What films have you walked out on?