My, My, Maurice

I picked it up at the library because I had read the book (many) years ago and had never gotten around to watching the movie, because, well books are so much better.

For the first hour or so of Maurice I was fairly unimpressed, to the point that I considered not watching the rest. (The book really is much better; so much of the action of the movie makes no sense without the accompaniment of Maurice’s thoughts.) But then came the…well, post-sex scenes is really the most accurate term for them. And, apparently, even mediocre movies can be entirely redeemed by the inclusion of a naked Rupert Graves. In fact, I think I’m just going to have to watch it again before returning it to the library.