The ultimate Da Vinci Code experience, for my money, is neither the book nor the film, but the audiobook. The actor they hired to narrate, Paul Michael, is a very competent person, and I mean no real disrespect to him. But he is male, and this hopeless job forces him to do the female dialog in an sort of falsetto Inspector Clouseau French accent that makes hottie archaeologist Sophie Neveu, supposedly a descendant of Jesus Christ, sound like a breathless tranny. "My grandfather, my grandfather..." Oh my, Sophie, tell me more!
Bara nokkrir góðir punktar um bókina, og vitleysuna í kringum lögfræðideiluna sem nú stendur yfir.. en ég hlustaði einmitt á hljóðbókina og finnst gaman að sjá að öðrum skuli líka finnast þessar kvenraddir hans hlægilegar. Nunnan í frönsku kirkjunni er jafnvel verri en Sófí.
Gagnrýnin sem kvikmyndin fær á New Yorker, og sem þessi gaur bendir einmitt á, er líka nokkuð skondin:
The task of the Bishop and his hit man is to thwart the unveiling of what Teabing modestly calls “the greatest secret in modern history,” so powerful that, “if revealed, it would devastate the very foundations of Christianity.” Later, realizing that this sounds a little meek and mild, he stretches it to “the greatest coverup in human history.” As a rule, you should beware of any movie in which characters utter lines of dialogue whose proper place is on the advertising poster. (Just imagine Sigourney Weaver, halfway through “Alien,” turning to John Hurt and explaining, “In space, no one can hear you scream.”)
...
Á mánudögum er sjónvarpsuppskera. Rome, Battlestar, Studio 60.. og ég ætla að tékka á The Dresden Files, eitthvað nýtt dót sem hljómar hrikalega, en ég er til í að láta koma mér á óvart.
-b.
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