Jane Campion has been a worldwide name in cinema for a decade and a half, having burst onto the scene in 1993 winning the Palme d'Or and getting nominated for everything under the sun with The Piano. If anything has defined her work from that, through the adaptation of Henry James' The Portrait of a Lady on to Holy Smoke and In the Cut, it is austere beauty: her films look lovely but have an aloofness at their core. That of all filmmakers it should be her to bring to the screen the story of John Keats and Fanny Brawne might appear at first to be an ill-suited match, but the deep pathos of the legendary poet's doomed romance provides the perfect material to underpin Campion's visual style with a depth of feeling.

Bright Star is a lyrical, delicate evocation of this pair (played by Ben Whishaw and Abbie Cornish)'s love affair. After their initial meetings, Fanny's mother succinctly sums up their situation as being devoid of fame and fortune, "Mr. Keats knows he cannot like you: he has no living and no income". Initially neighbours, eventually the Brawnes move in to the house in which Keats is staying and his attachment to Fanny grows with their increased proximity. Their match is disapproved on both sides, with Fanny's mother and Keats' best friend Brown (Paul Schneider) both having differing objections even before Keats' health strains the couple's budding relationship to the limit.

There are some achingly gorgeous scenes and moments etched by Campion throughout; notably the letter pressed up against the glass of the window in the rain, the couple's first kiss and the return to the house that follows, the reading of his first letter, and the room of butterflies thereafter. Alongside those are deeply poignant scenes, particularly their farewell and the reaction to the news of his fate. These are accentuated by unfussy cinematography (it is not as obviously accomplished as, say, The Portrait of a Lady, but it is invisible and is in service of telling the story in the most direct way possible) and a reserved approach to the placement of music.

Of course being not only foreign, but from a different hemisphere, there are some cultural aspects to Bright Star which lack authenticity; some of the dialogue has too modern a feel to ring true, Schneider's scottish brogue is all over the shop and even Cornish slips occasionally. Her casting in particular seems more to satisfy the vagaries of international co-productions than anything else. This is not to say she does not deliver a good performance, quite the contrary in fact, but this is the type of film where the actors are the director's putty, being moulded to suit her end. Rather than relying on the actors to elevate the material, Campion simply ensures that they suit it. The final scene of the film is emblematic of that as it is a scene that fails to be as moving as previous ones because it is one of the few in the film that relies on Cornish the actress rather than Campion the director to nail it.

What Campion does nail however, which renders the questions of the accuracy of the world created almost moot, is the emotional authenticity, which is present in abundance from first frame to last. Their relationship is drawn expertly and is painfully real, which immerses the viewer in the situation these two souls find themselves in. Campion has taken a story which stems from one of the participants' letters (his), which are full of intensity and despair and jealousy and by treating Fanny as an equal in this tale rather than the object of obsession has smoothed it out to achieve an emotionally real balance, crafting a genuinely touching and arresting work. The inventions on her part are what lends the film its verity and as a result its vitality. She may not completely know the nuances of their environment, but she fundamentally knows the nuances of their hearts, and in depicting the beauty of their time together finds her way to the truth. As a result, it is difficult to envision that even the most die-hard fans of Keats could fail to be moved, for it is a lovingly made film in the image of the man and his work.

Peter Strickland's debut film, Katalin Varga, has a very unusual history. Having been shown at the Berlin Film Festival this year, prior to that it had been on the shelf for the best part of two years in need of completion funds to finish the sound in post-production. On top of that, this is a British film which was shot in Romania, in Romanian and Hungarian, and needed local financing to eventually bail out the film. As with many independent films it has received money from the National Lottery-financed UK Film Council to fund its release, however modest it has been.

The story is difficult to explain without spoiling 95% of the plot and it would probably be best to go into the film knowing as little as possible about it as it is actually the latest entry in a very tired, overdone genre: the revenge flick. As such, having this british director merely transport the kind of story it is across cultures and into a different language is at-best stilted and at worst incredibly pretentious. Strickland's filmmaking smacks of a novice, never settling on a visual style that is either consistent or fluid. There are individual moments of striking talent, but it does not string together to create truly satisfactory cohesive storytelling.

Essentially, the film is a performance piece for its star Hilda Péter. Showing her journey into the sticks following a break up with her husband, for the opening third of the film not a tremendous amount happens but once it becomes clear what she's doing the intrigue picks up. The finest scene in the film is when Péter recounts the details of what happened to her to prompt the revenge. On paper it could be quite dull but visually it is handled interestingly and she absolutely knocks the monologue out of the park.

In Berlin this took home an award for the sound, which is rather strange as the annoyingly cacophonous sound design and the poor quality of the recording couple to create one of the film's major weaknesses. It gives the film a genuine Eastern European feel to it (reminiscent of something like Marketa Lazarova) but is both intrusive and overbearing. By the end, through all the jumbled techniques and game turns, some interesting points are obliquely made, and this remains a glimpse of possible great things in the future rather than a tremendously accomplished piece of work at present.

Pixar are, Will Smith aside, seemingly the only bulletproof people in the film industry today, with all of their films apparantly untouchable at the box office. Their latest offering, Up, has continued the streak and garnered as impeccable a critical reception as the two previous Pixars that preceeded it (Ratatouille and WALL·E).

The story follows a widower who, following an altercation with a workman is going to be sent off to a retirement home. Rather than face that "death" he blows up thousands of balloons and lifts his house off the ground, preferring instead to fulfill his wife's lifelong ambition of living in a remote part of South America. A local boy scout (well ... "Wilderness explorer") is unwittingly taken along for the ride and when they arrive they encounter everything from rare birds to a pack of talking dogs.

On many occasions this is an extremely amusing film, a lot of stuff is aimed way over the kids' heads at the adults (for example a shot of some of the dogs playing poker) and it does shift quite freely. Unfortunately the main child character is the most annoying Pixar have created in many a year although the script has enough skillfully drawn situations to smooth that over. The most friendly of the dogs, Dug, steals the show and has some of the funniest lines. A lot of the humour here is extremely silly, which is a stark contrast to the recent films they've done, the height of which being the "evil" dog having a helium-style voice.

Like WALL·E, there is a bravura wordless section early on (albeit 10 times as short), here recounting the main character's marriage. If there is a problem with the film it's that it has touches of brilliance that recall previous works but does not go on to surpass them. The marriage montage is pure cinema and effortlessly moving, but the rest of the film, whilst very entertaining for the most part does not live up to the promise of its best moments. In a way it is rather unfair to judge a Pixar film as the bar has been raised so high, so consistently. This isn't quite the case of a Yelena Isinbayeva crashing out without recording a height at the World Championships this year, but it's more like her delivering an easy win without ever attempting to go for the world record she has so often broken before.

Lone Scherfig is one of the finest directors in Europe, bursting on to the international scene with her delightful Dogme film Italian for Beginners the best part of a decade ago. Since then she's branched out into English language cinema with the very quirky Wilbur Wants to Kill Himself, and pushed the boundaries of the process with the experimental Hjemve, which wasn't a success in her home country. So this film, her return to the British scene, is her international reply to a domestic disappointment.

The story follows a 16 year old schoolgirl who is befriended by a man more than twice her age who starts charming her parents and taking her out around all the fashionable places in London. Sadly, the result is as unsettling as it sounds as having Peter Sarsgaard creepily groom a "teenage" Carey Mulligan (who couldn't really pass for 16 four years ago in Pride and Prejudice) is not exactly a relationship to engender much sympathy.

On top of that, the characterisation adds to this as Mulligan is referred to by her schoolfriends as "a stuck up cow", and having this type of person ushered into a sexual awakening doesn't give any emotional investment in their fate. This is true of the film as a whole, the only character who sees her for the pretentious snob that she is (played by a very game Rosamund Pike) is regularly ridiculed for being stupid. If you don't share this "stuck up cow"'s naive blind adoration of all things arty and worthwhile then you clearly must be so unintelligent as to be laughed at.

All of this comes from Nick Hornby's smugly assembled screenplay (and presumably the memoir on which it's based) and very simply there's little Scherfig can do about it. As ever with her the film looks lovely and the attention to detail is refreshing, but Mulligan isn't given much to do, Sarsgaard can't escape/adds to the creepiness of the situation, Dominic Cooper is his usual bland self, and Alfred Molina tries with a rather 2D character (which in all fairness most of the cast are saddled with). That the script at the end tries to shift the blame onto his character is the ultimate conceit and contradiction. This is a well put together film with some competent turns and a killer soundtrack, but intellectually and philosophically it's rather repellent.

Right, so yesterday I sat down to have tea in front of the tv and had a flick round to see if there was anything worth watching. I came across the second half of The Last of the Mohicans (which I've seen far too many times over the years) and having recently seen Jodhi May in the BBC's adaptation of Emma I kept it on. Within 20 mins of it finishing I'd gone upstairs, found my copy of The Age of Innocence and completed an impromtu Daniel Day Lewis double bill. I'm always surprised by how much I like The Age of Innocence, I don't think it's Scorsese's best film but it could easily be my favourite and definitely has one of the most beautiful shots/moments I've ever seen with Michelle Pfeiffer on the jetty with the sunset glistening off the waves while Day Lewis wills her to turn around. What the hell, the blog isn't letting me link to pictures so I'll just upload this screencap - here it is :)

Whilst researching on wikipedia and imdb (i.e. finding out precisely HOW BADLY IT WAS SNUBBED DAMMIT!!! :D by the oscars) I came across the fact that there had been a couple of adaptations in the 20s and 30s, and the divine Irene Dunne had played Madame Olenska in RKO's version. Now this immediately leapt out at me as a particularly inspired piece of casting and I frantically, to no avail sadly, hunted the search engines to see if I could find it online. What that failure did though is make me dig for an Irene Dunne film I hadn't seen and knew I could find, namely Love Affair.

It took me a little while, but as soon as Dunne and Charles Boyer (who I'm very hit and miss on) turn up at his grandmother's house, I realised that this was an earlier version of An Affair to Remember (and it turns out Leo McCarey directed both), which is quite fitting seeing as I very recently saw Sleepless in Seattle and it plays such a big role in that film. 1939 was a truly vintage year for Hollywood and this got nominated all over the shop at the oscars that year. In a way I can see why because it's a very appealing film. I think the remake spoiled Maria Ouspenskaya's performance for me because I preferred Cathleen Nesbitt so much more. Indeed a classic, I probably prefer the remake because I'm a big fan of Cary Grant's and only a bit more of Dunne's than Kerr's, but I still haven't seen the 50s version all the way through so for now, this is ahead in my mind.

After seeing that I moved straight on to Mourning Becomes Electra, because the same person had uploaded both and I'd wanted to see it for years, being infamous for the biggest oscar shock ever, with Rosalind Russell so sure she'd win she'd got out of her seat before Loretta Young's name was read out. This is the newly extended cut and boy does it drag, I really wish, rather like Fanny & Alexander that I'd seen the original theatrical shorter version. The acting was good but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a bit disappointing given the reputation of both Russell's and Michael Redgrave's performances. Raymond Massey and Katina Paxinou come to play, but it's such a stagey, turgid drag of a film I couldn't recommend it outside of the curiosity value.

Which brings me on to another extended version, Untitled, which is Cameron Crowe's director's cut of Almost Famous (with about 40 minutes added to it) which was on tv tonight. I've always found the original version to be so overrated, mainly because for me Kate Hudson was so annoying, fake and charmless and the whole soul of the film is her character and her relationships, so if you don't like her you're on to a loser with the film. I was extremely underwhelmed when I first saw it because I'm such a fan of rock music and Crowe's Singles is easily my favourite film on the subject and given the critical (if not financial, it bombed) reception it didn't live up to the hype.

Despite having the same feelings about Hudson (the character is so well written I almost cry when I think that as stunningly soulful an actress as Sarah Polley turned it down) I did find this version more watchable. There are more genuine laugh-out-loud moments than I remembered and even if there are some dodgy lines in there ("let's deflower the kid!" :S) it is a film with its heart in the right place. I think the new cut fleshes out some of the relationships more and I do think it's improved in pacing despite the added length. The trouble is though most people who love this film have Hudson and the Tiny Dancer scene as their highlights, whereas I can't stand Elton John and Hudson will always be the reason I'll never take this film to my heart, even though it hits on so many areas that ostensibly appeal to me that I'll equally always feel that I should.

Terry Gilliam is one of the most visionary directors working today, and seemingly only someone of his level of talent would be able to rescue a film from the brink of disaster as he has here. When David Lynch revived his unbought pilot for Mulholland Dr. he could do his patch-up job with the original actors (as Naomi Watts and Laura Harring were nowhere near stars), but following the death of Heath Ledger GIlliam didn't have such a luxury, instead turning to Johnny Depp, Colin Farrell and Jude Law, and some rewrites to salvage the film.

Sadly it will always be mentioned with reference to Ledger's death, but the concept of the three extra acotrs works rather well. The plot is basically that of a group of travelling performers, the immortal Dr. Parnassus (Christopher Plummer), his daughter (Lily Cole) and hangers on (Andrew Garfield and Verne Troyer). They have a magic mirror, which once inside the punter's imagination is brought to life, before being faced with a choice which will determine the fate of their soul. The clever part of the triple-casting is they go to the guys every time Ledger goes through the mirror so it's nowhere near as distracting as it could have been.

Being a Gilliam film, the visuals and general quirkiness are of the most concern. That said though if anything holds this film together it's the characters created and the situations they are put in rather than the style. Plummer is his most interesting in a decade, Cole shows some natural talent even if she is pushed a bit too far towards the end and Garfield finally has a role to fully exploit his natural sweetness and charm (the guy should be the British Michael Cera but instead he's been in some very gritty tv films). Tom Waits as the devil resembles a poor man's John Malkovich, Ledger is fine, but of the three replacements Depp comes to play the most.

The set-up is rather convoluted which makes it a film which isn't the easiest to follow, but it does retain an inherent likeability. Here Gilliam assembles the misfits in vintage fashion, Cole is a very odd looking girl, Troyer is the latest in a line of "vertically challenged" people he's used and the story has a sufficient charm amongst the madness. If there's a problem it's that beneath the surface there's not actually that much on offer and it probably won't stand up to too much intellectual scrutiny. That said though the cast are all very game and the dance between Cole and Waits is one of the most visually arresting scenes in recent years and worth the price of admission alone. In a way it's a shame this will always be the film Heath Ledger died doing, because really he's one of the least interesting things about it, yet that is where the curiosity will naturally come from both now and in the future. Other films of Gilliam's might have deserved the extra attention more.

Right, straight on with it, I saw The Nanny Diaries on Sky because ... well, it was on and Scarlett Johansson is usually nothing if not watchable. The tone of this is the biggest problem, it goes for cuteness (which probably stems from the source material) but it's just not funny enough or clever enough a critique of the lifestyles encountered. Scarlett is solid, Chris Evans doesn't really try and Alicia Keys doesn't have anything to do. Paul Giamatti turns up for the paycheque, but Laura Linney is the only one who comes to play, she gives a fine turn. Doesn't consistently amuse, at times it's laughable rather than funny, but it engenders enough good will to see it through to its all-too-neat conclusion. Wouldn't recommend it but it wasn't a complete waste of time.

I also caught Taken, which started its rotation on Sky this week, knowing full well this is the kind of "entertainment" that prompted Michael Haneke to make Funny Games not once but twice. Liam Neeson proved in Batman Begins he could play the legit badass and here he takes the centre of this revenge flick rather nicely. It's nothing special at all, the kind of thing that's been done before many times, but it flies by and is a decent enough watch, even if Mr Haneke would bemoan the violence as entertainment in and of itself.

Moving on I finally finished watching The French Connection. I've tried to watch this so many times, giving up 10-15 minutes in on a few occasions, and coming in halfway through on a few more. This film has two very famous scenes; Gene Hackman and Roy Scheider's "Good Cop, Bad Cop" routine and the "Car vs. Train" chase. Unfortunately I'd seen both of these more than once in my many aborted attempts, and it's probably that I wasn't particularly bothered by them and knew they were the stand-out moments of the film which prevented me from persevering with it. Inbetween it just drags and drags, very little happens, the performances are decent but don't compel and can't fill in the blanks. Don't rate this one, it's not bad, it's just the kind of film you flick to when the breaks come on when you're watching an American sport on the other side.

Speaking of which I went to see the New England destroy Tampa in the NFL's (now) annual game at Wembley Stadium and as such I missed the final part of Emma, which I watched tonight on the iPlayer. Possibly the strangest feeling having finished it is the realisation that whilst being completely miscast from top to bottom and despite being incredibly uneven in tone and questionable in approach, due to the ineptitude of the 1996 adaptations this was surprisingly watchable. Suffering from the same problem the Joe Wright Pride and Prejudice did (in the lead actress playing her too much of a cow and - maybe because of that - the actor being too nice, thus unbalancing the natural arcs of the story), but without that film's genuine entertainment value it's quite the oddity. The final episode wasn't very satisfying dramatically, certain things are skated over intolerably and the emotional investment in the characters, despite (or maybe because of) spending four hours with them is sadly lacking. All it makes me want to do is a/ read the book and b/ find Clueless on tv.

Over the last few years Christopher Smith has positioned himself as the go-to guy for British horror films, and with his third feature, Triangle, he's reverted to the formula of his debut effort Creep in casting a recognisable actress (in that case it was Franka Potente, here it is Melissa George) and building the film around her performance.

George plays Jess, a mother of an autistic boy, who has been invited by a friend for a trip on his boat to have some time away from the stress of raising her child. Turning up semi-out of it, proclaiming her son to be at school despite it being a Saturday and spending the beginning of the trip asleep for hours, soon she perks up, before the wind disappears, a storm upends the boat and a liner rescues them. The problem with this is the liner is creepy and seemingly nobody is on board, then the shenanigans start.

Taking the good aspects of this film first, there is a rather nice atmosphere of unease, if not genuine tension. It is for all intents and purposes a performance piece and George does deliver. The role is a complex and challenging one and she does absolutely everything that is required of her. It's a very professionally put together film, the editing is interesting, having George come in and out of frame from various angles and picking her up unusually.

On the negative side though the sound design is a little rough around the edges on occasion and sadly, given the concept of the film, it's nowhere near as clever as it would probably think it is. It's not spoiling much to say this relies on time-loops as the bedrock of the storytelling and it is neither adequately explained nor does it work in its own internal logic. As such there are so many plot holes that this really is, despite being competently assembled, a rather large conceit and basically intellectual-counterfeit money. George ensures it's always watchable and is the reason to see the film, but for long periods it relies on confusion and intrigue and doesn't have enough of a pay off for it to be entirely satisfactory.

Right so I've been pretty ill for the past few days and as such I've barely moved out of the room with the cable box. Mostly watching sporting events, but the boredom has given way to seeing some pretty uninspired films, so I'll blast through them before hopefully going to the cinema to see something tomorrow (maybe Up, possibly Triangle as Melissa George is in it and after In Treatment I now like her, even though I'm sure that because she's not brunette in it she will suck :P).

Right, what have I seen, oh yes, because I have the newly-created ESPN channels at no extra cost to the current package I'm on I've RAPED their coverage of College Football in America, and on one of the shows I saw Sean Payton (Head Coach of the New Orleans Saints) mention Varsity Blues. A couple of days later it was on so I checked it out and while not a cinematic masterpiece I suppose it was entertaining enough. Nice to see Amy Smart before her career died post-Scrubs, interesting seeing Ali Larter's debut and James Van Der Beek back when he was on the creek (why is it the girls both did so well out of that and the guys used the launchpad so ineptly? :S). Was frankly shocked at how low-brow this was, not what I was expecting at all. As American Football comedies go it's no Wildcats, but it eventually pushes the right buttons.

Wow I wrote much more than I expected to there, I'll push on. Eagle Eye has started on Sky Premiere so I eventually caught it as I do enjoy Michelle Monaghan in certain things. Shia LaBoeuf is so poor in this he almost derails the film, bland, lifeless, charmless turn that sucks the life right out of the heart of it. Billy Bob Thornton just turns up for the pay-cheque and Rosario Dawson I've never seen so severe. Monaghan was the only one even remotely trying, but it wasn't enough to save this hackjob of a film. Sub-par special effects (for the kind of film it is) and one of those worst kind of action films that drags while waiting for them to stop running and get back to the plot (regardless of how ridiculous it is). Didn't like it.

After that I saw Star 80, which is another example of the total randomnnes of TCM's new roster of films - it's not necessarily bad because they have obscure stuff that is interesting to a degree but it's not what you'd expect them to have. This was Bob Fosse's last film and lacks a lot of his visual flair instead shoving in repeated montages of pictures of Mariel Hemingway in various stages of undress. Eric Roberts gives a very game turn as the mentally unhinged husband of Hemingway's Playboy model and she gives a performance which makes her "nice" but doesn't really get into much character work. In the end it's almost necessarily exploitative and does enough to retain an interest, but they could have done much more with a different kind of approach.

Lastly, Date Movie, which I watched out of sheer morbid curiosity and at the height of my illness ("sickness" is probably more apt considering I chose to watch this :D). Alyson Hannigan wasn't too bad in all fairness, but the material is extremely poor and doesn't even approach the "so bad it's good" area. I don't think the spoof films are ever really that successful, but in this they're doing parodies of films that were comedies in the first place and it's actually impressive that they take scenes which were originally very amusing (like say, the dinner scene from Meet the Parents) and suck all the humour out of it. Judah Friedlander was the only real "disappointment" I had as he's very funny on 30 Rock, but then that's a show with heart and intelligence so not necessarily a surprise he doesn't thrive in the opposite environment. The one saving grace here is that I now can safely ignore any possible thoughts I might have had in the future about watching one of Aaron Seltzer's films as this was one of the rare times with me where one film is enough to make me write a director off.

Maybe I've been spoiled by In Treatment, maybe I've just not been watching very good films this week, but I'll blast through these. One of the more obscure channels played a couple of films this week back to back, which I've wanted to see for years. The prospect of Faye Dunaway as Milady de Winter in The Three Musketeers and The Four Musketeers was an intriguing one for a fan of hers and they were finally played so I finally watched them. They're "spot the star" films with the likes of Oliver Reed, Christopher Lee and Charlton Heston and frankly, not quite what I was expecting.

Dick Lester directing should have tipped me off to the fact they're not the most serious of adaptations and they're basically romps. The first one is very slapstick-driven (Raquel Welch probably being the most adept at it) and extremely silly and light in tone. It's just about watchable, and Heston comes to play as Richelieu but Dunaway is hardly in it and it always goes for the lowest common denominator. The second film is much better, it's less reliant on the comedic tone and has better action scenes as a result. Dunaway has a LOT more to do and delivers on the promise. Watched together they do fly by, but they're rather unsubstantial and it's probably only really worth seeing the sequel again.

After that I saw another film I've wanted to see because of one actress, this time Charlotte Rampling in Angel. Unfortunately I wasn't aware the ever-dull Romola Garai and Michael Fassbender were effectively the leads, so even reuiniting Rampling with Under the Sand-director François Ozon wasn't enough on its own to save this. It's one of those trying-to-be-quirky, soulless drags of a period drama and unlike something like Cheri (where one of the leads was terrible and one was very good and thus saved it to some degree), the acting from the leads is so insipid it kills any interest. This sadly ends up being one of those films seemingly only made to give art directors and costume designers something to do. Ozon's direction is limp, Garai *is* the film and she's awful - horribly mannered, self-aware and lacking any chemistry or natural contact with the other players or her surroundings. She's fake, and so is the film: it's borderline-unwatchable.

On to a pair of films I didn't expect to necessarily love but thought could possibly be at least entertaining. First of the two was 13 Going on 30, which I'd always avoided as it sounded like a total rip-off of Big, but chronic boredom coupled with the inclusion of serial scene-stealer Judy Greer enticed me. Now it *is* a rip off of Big (and Samantha Who? borrows more than a little of this with the caveat of everyone still knowing her but her not remembering) but it does enough new stuff to distinguish itself in its own right. Really liked Mark Ruffalo in this (which is a surprise for me, I think he's a decent actor but I've never really *liked* him in anything before), Greer was all kinds of fun, Garner ... well, she did what was required - like the film, cute but nothing too out of the ordinary.

 Lastly, the multiple Razzie-award nominated I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry. Even more boredom prompted this one. This clearly isn't a good film, but I didn't think it was *that* bad. Adam Sandler's angry-man schtick has gotten very old, Kevin James is fairly charmless and Jessica Biel's role requires her only to a/ answer to the description of "smoking hot" and b/ have an ass worth showing off. I should have hated this film, but for some reason I didn't. I do think it revelled in the homophobia a bit too much in the beginning (the way, say, Spike Lee did with Malcom X's more radical views before the last half hour smoothed them over), I do think they consistently went for getting Biel in various stages of undress rather than going for the funniest possible option, but I can't bring myself to lambast it. Maybe because it's so reminiscent of the 30s and 40s dramas of this kind, maybe it's just so generic it's not even offensively inoffensive, it's not really worth thinking about too much.