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I saw X-Men 3 the other night. I enjoyed it, because I was in the mood to enjoy it. It's one of those movies that depends on your mood.

At the risk of being pilloried, I have to confess here: I just don't get the whole Hugh Jackman as Wolverine thing. Why is it sexy? His hair... egad. I'm just not... it just doesn't do it for me. More of him to go around for the rest of you, ladies.

I usually have to have my boyfriend translate these movies for me. "What's the deal with Wolverine?" "He has a skeleton made of adamantium." "Huh? Does that exist?" "No. Oh, and he heals really fast." "Can he be killed?" "They can all be killed." "How come the magnet-guy wears that hat?" "Ssh, be quiet."

There was one scene - no, I'm not spoiling anything, relax - where another mutant is levelling this destructive power at Wolverine. He's resisting it, trying to walk forward. The destructive power starts to sort-of disintegrate him (No, Wolverine doesn't die in this movie, take it easy) and his skin starts pulling and his clothes are flapping and his shirt disintegrates. Just his shirt. He's still fighting this power, and his pants are still on. His pants do not disintegrate, even when his skin does. So, this is a mutant power that also has a sense of modesty and hinges on whether Hugh Jackman agreed to take off his pants in this movie. See, that's the kind of thing I get hung up on. I wanted to shout: "Hey - lose the pants!" Even though I don't want to see Hugh Jackman without pants, unlike the rest of the female population.

While I'm confessing: I hated the Da Vinci Code. I couldn't get past chapter two. I need characters, or I'm dead in the water. Cardboard cutouts running around the Louvre aren't good enough. Boring, boring, boring!

Sigh. Back to deeper stuff tomorrow, I promise.

Abby