Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones, as adapted for the screen by Peter Jackson, was the rare film during which I genuinely had nothing I could think of saying during its screening; I set pretty much silent, forming very few thoughtful reactions in my head, leaving finding I was partially unsatisfied, very much a reflection of the day, something I somehow expected a little of. It was saved by excellent company; who I chose to see today is, reflectively, the phase of socio-relational life I'm going through. For more information, see the next few FB photos I'll be tagged in.