That's Just Nit Picking

There's nothing more satisfying than a brilliantly written bad movie review. The New Yorker's Anthony Lane's Da Vinci Code Review is an utter polaxing.

Enjoy these bits....

There has been much debate over Dan Brown’s novel ever since it was published, in 2003, but no question has been more contentious than this: if a person of sound mind begins reading the book at ten o’clock in the morning, at what time will he or she come to the realization that it is unmitigated junk?

And...

Meanwhile, art historians can sleep easy once more, while fans of the book, which has finally been exposed for the pompous fraud that it is, will be shaken from their trance. In fact, the sole beneficiaries of the entire fiasco will be members of Opus Dei, some of whom practice mortification of the flesh. From now on, such penance will be simple—no lashings, no spiked cuff around the thigh. Just the price of a movie ticket, and two and a half hours of pain.

Yep, that's right up there with the review Spinal Tap copped for their underrated Shark Sandwich album.