in the name of the father, son and holy spiggot

i didn't get up at 4:00 am, but i have now watched the royal wedding. while it was beautiful, i couldn't help but be completely distracted by my thought that i seen this whole thing once before. no, not the nuptials of charles and diana (although i did get up to watch those - the difference between a 10 year old body and a 39 year old body, i guess); rather one of my favorite movies of all time -

four weddings and a funeral

indulge me before you disagree.

beautiful main characters? check!

goofy rectors? check!

gay friends? check!

john hannah? check!

alright. maybe the pictures haven't convinced you, but watch this scene from four weddings and a funeral and then tell me that i'm wrong.

the wedding of
bernard geoffrey st. john delaney and lydia jane hibbot

there's another great scene where everyone is singing "jerusalem" by charles hubert hastings perry and the camera keys on the characters who are less than impressed with everyone's singing - just like what happened today at westminister abbey.

i rest my case and andi mcdowell and hugh grant should immediately seek royalties from today's broadcast because it was a ripoff!

god save the queen.

* i didn't want to taint my analysis with pettiness, but someone HAS to talk to the archbishop about those eyebrows! i know he's sort of a big deal in the church of england and all, but he was marrying the future king and queen. he didn't have to cut them, but a little gel wouldn't have hurt.