Left work early (for my standards, meaning before 6:30pm) and took myself to the movies to see The Constant Gardener, which opened today.
It's based on the John LeCarré novel of the same name, which I think I will read soon. I've been reading his novels in the order they were published, but this is not part of his George Smiley series, so I think I'll cheat.
One of the reasons I want to read it now is that I don't think I really got the movie. I did like it - Ralph Fiennes and Rachel Weisz and Danny Huston and Bill Nighy and several other actors I didn't know, were all really good, and I loved most of the imagery, especially the saturated Africa colors, the pictures vanishing into blinding light, and the repeating bits (could have done without all the wiggly hand-held stuff; I didn't think that added any value), but it didn't really come together for me. I felt like I was missing a few clues.
I walked out of the theatre feeling like my heart had gotten it, but my brain hadn't.