Last night as the chaos of the day was dying down and the kids went to bed, my husband suggested we watch a movie. I’m not one who frequently watches movies, but last night I felt up to it and agreed. In a rather good mood, I even let him pick the movie. What a mistake that was.
His pick? Centurion.
For those who haven’t seen it but think they might want to, go check out the details of it here. Oh my goodness, this movie was graphic. Ick. Usually, blood and guts don’t bother me, but this movie has certainly ruined Ketchup for me, that’s for sure.
The plot puts a small group of Roman soldiers trying to get back home while constantly hiding from or being attacked by a group of warriors–led by a madwoman, no less–who are bent on making sure nobody gets back alive. Needless to say, this movie was gruesome with heads getting lopped of, spears impaling people and blood spraying everywhere.
Then came the romance. In what must have been the last twenty minutes of this movie a beautiful blonde appears who saves the day by offering the few remaining men a place to stay and, you guessed it, within just a few minutes she and the Centurion have somehow found true love that will later bring him back to her hut at the end of the movie.
Oh, how sweet.
I have to seriously wonder why that was even in the movie. Since I don’t really know a lot of this particular story, I don’t know if the Centurion did or didn’t run off to live as a fugitive with one of the enemy’s women who’d been declared a witch and exiled. But I do know, from a woman’s standpoint, this added NOTHING to the story for me. I understand some movies include a small romantic subplot in order to appeal to women, but this did nothing for me.
Here’s my personal opinion on romance in this type of movie:
When there’s a good mix between fighting and romance, such as First Knight (which, I didn’t find terribly romantic, either, but for reasons I’m sure I’ll mention another time), the romance subplot is fine. There was nearly equal attention given to the romance and the war. But when a movie is nothing but screams and grunts of pain, constant blood spray and a few other gut wrenching scenes that make the idea of eating popcorn repulsive, the romance is dead.