Where Was I . . .

Rating: 5/10 (18 March 2014)

for the last 111 minutes? I seem to remember watching The Italian Job, a remake of a heist movie from the late 60s, now set in Los Angeles, and starring a bunch of pleasingly vacant actors and cute little cars.
But that's not possible because I have so little memory of it already (last night, was it?). I do recollect having a pleasing sensation of seeing Charlize Theron, bra-less in a tank top, but they make mannequins with nipples, and I was in a clothing store a few days ago. Mark Wahlberg was there, all angry, wounded puppy-dog handsome. Donald Sutherland popped up, then popped out after crossing paths with ferret-faced baddie, Edward Norton. Venice, Italy and Hollywood, California both looked nice. There were millions of dollars in gold bars, some scuba gear, laptops that could do things I don't think can be done even 11 years after the movie came out, a couple of bullet holes, a number of giant Samoans, cusswords looped out with non- cusswords, and a feeling that this was all just so much fun for a bunch of popular actors and their action-movie-addicted audience.
Yet, I can't be sure. I think The Italian Job was an equally pleasant and vacant bit of duck fluff for summer consumption. I know Wahlberg has so much animal magnetism that if he screwed a light bulb in his ear, the damn thing would light off instantly. Theron exudes such a dangerously sexy vibe that, even though she has nothing to do here but act as if she's happy to be invited to work with the boys, we don't mind because there's something primal in her provocativeness. Norton could narrate a documentary on Pope Francis, and the viewer might want to clean his ears out with Lysol, all because he's so . . . um . . . icky.
I just don't know for sure if I saw this movie. It's gone. It faded away. I'm not disturbed by my confusion, just confused about where the time went.