The other day I ended up rewatching this movie called “Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist”, which is one of those movies set in one crazy night in New York City. I love this movie. Everytime I watch it, I end up rewatching it the following night. Which is why I refrain from it, actually.
Everything just works so well together — the characters are fun, the pace is fast, the set is seductively urban, the soundtrack is friggin’ fantastic, and I always have a great time watching this eventful night. Probably because I’m not really the sort of girl who’d have this kind of night. You know, wander around the city in the early morning with friends (or really new acquaintances) looking for a band/drunk friend.
Two years ago, when I first watched the movie, I bought the book it was based on (same title, by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan) — I’m one of those annoying people who go “BUT THE BOOK IS SO MUCH BETTER!” in the movies, so every time I find a movie that I really like that’s based on a book I assume the book must be awesome.
This is not the case.
I have fun reading it, because it’s too short to resist, and it’s fast enough to keep you through it, but oh-my, is the movie better. Since I’ve never been there, or hung around NYC types, I don’t know if it’s either the movie or the book that better portrays American city kids, but that’s A LOT of “fuck”s. I mean, there are more “fuck”s in this book than “phony”s in Catcher in the Rye. YEAH.
Every time I read it I wonder if people actually talk like that somewhere.
(Here’s the trailer, if you’re a trailer person.)