I recently had this weird craving to watch Children Of Men.  I have only three things to say on that film:

1) Watching a dystopian war-ridden nightmare before bed was not the brightest idea I've ever had
2) Clive Owen is amazingly hot and we don't see enough of him
3) That movie is still awesome

When I was lying half-concious from food poisoning in my hotel bed in DC back in Feb, I was flipping channels and came across Sin City, formally My Favorite Movie of All Time.  I saw it twice in one weekend--the only other movie I've ever done that with was Predators, and that's only because I lived above a $2 movie theater and had, literally, nothing better to do. 

So I watched "The Big Fat Kill" section, and man, he is so hot and that movie is still great.  Mostly because of Clive Owen (and Mickey Rourke, of course, but he's not hot like Clive Owen).

I sort of let my obsession with Clive Owen fall by the wayside because he reminded me a lot of my ex-best-friend, but it's been a few years and I'm ready to love again.  Now if only he would start showing up in movies again . . . .



I left my knife at home, so I'm just going to smash the glass and eat my beer with my hands

I like Clive Owen because he is a man.  Manliness drips out of every pore.  This is not a guy who plays World of Warcraft, he goes to the horse races.  Clive Owen does not keep Smirnoff Ice in his mini fridge, he drinks pints of beer so thick you have carve them with a steak knife before you can drink them.  Clive Owen does not wear skinny jeans or white belts or ironic teeshirts.  He's so damn manly that I'm surprised he doesn't chafe himself on his rawness.

When he comes on screen, you know Clive Owen means business.  He has a monotone and a grizzled face and a crooked nose and when he grins he looks like he wants to eat you.  But he also has a stage presence unlike anyone else (except maybe Mickey Rourke) and he commands a screen.  He's the kind of men women want and men want to be.  In an era of pretty boys with names like Channing and Shia, a dark, dour British man is a much-needed breath of fresh air .  . and yet, he was gone almost before we really got to know him.  He was a big thing for a hot minute, and then . . .nothing.  There's Trust, which I didn't get a chance to see, and The Boys Are Back, which Ian refused to see with me, but otherwise, he is gone.  If I really wanted to get melancholy, I could point out how much this mimics my ill-fated relationship with Dwight, but I'm not that silly.

The other thing I like about Clive Owen is that he is devoted to his kids and his very . . . ah . . . British-looking wife.  I love married men, and better still, I love a devoted married man.  I can't explain it--preachers, professors and married men.  Those are my kinks. 

Ewan McGregor is charming.  Jeff Goldblum is coy.  Walton Goggins is clever.  But Clive Owen is manly.  And can't a girl have one of each?