Gareth Bale

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Gareth Bale

Sure, I was wailing like a banshee every time he whizzed one into the goal in the Inter Milan game, but I still hold the opinion that he bares a riduculousy uncanny resemblance to a space chimp in a polyester shirt.



Read My Lips Review

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Sur Mes Lèvres



As you might have guessed by now, I'm not a sucker for stereotypical rom-coms with smooching conveyer belt casanovas reciting poetry and wafting red roses left, right and centre.

So under my radar, this gallic film noir-thriller slots into the big cheese role of the romance genre like a dime in a pinball machine.

So scooch over Casablanca. No amount of Humphrey Bogart scowling into his gin is going to budge this Hitchcock-esque number out of the ranking. It's got enough emotional porn between Emmanuelle Devos' lonely frumpy secretary and Vincent Cassel's flaky limp haired ex-con to induce a fallopian tube explosion.