Sometimes you have those days when you're not quite feeling like yourself. Where the beautiful Summer breeze isn't enough to lift your spirits, and the cardinal perched in the tree can't sing a song lovely enough to drive away the doubt of everyday life. The lush green grass cushions your aching feet but can do nothing for your bothered mind. The company of family keeps you at ease, and a late afternoon movie is there to distract. The sun retreats, cooling your skin, and blinding you less and less. And finally there is clarity. Finally, you see.
The Village is an awful fucking movie.
