What seems like many moons ago now, T and I went to see Wild at the Chase. It was a bit insane at the Chase that day, because the St. Louis Food and Wine Experience, a benefit for the Repertory Theater, was going on there that day. We took refuge from the craziness in the quiet theater.
When Cheryl Strayed's book came out, I have to say that I wasn't too interested to read it. I think I was exhausted with the spate of navel-gazing autobiographies that have been coming out in the last decade or so. Not everyone is a special snowflake! But I was having kind of a crappy day that particular Sunday, and a quiet movie with some killer scenery seemed like just the thing to cure me of my mood, so off we went.
I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the movie. Because I had intentionally avoided the book, I was also surprised by some of the back story in the film. Reese Witherspoon is the only character of any consequence in the film, and she is phenomenal. She's tough and funny. She's idiotic and desperate. She's a real person, and she maintains, as always, that Reese quality of adorable which I would hate if it weren't so, well, adorable.
Bottom line: this was the perfect antidote to a rainy bummer of a Sunday afternoon.
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