Anyone who knows me knows I'm pretty much the last person on earth to see a film with the spectacularly boring title of "The Girl in the Cafe," particularly if said film takes place at, of all places, a G8 conference, and even more particularly if said film is described, in nearly every review, as "quiet" or "meditative" or any of those other codewords critics use for "movie I fell asleep halfway through, though people tell me it's a brilliantly muted study of the human condition."
And yet I watched "The Girl in the Cafe," mainly because of TiVo, which allows me to record all manner of potentially awful movies, scoff at them, then promptly delete them and watch the Rock of Love reunion show one more time.
Can I just say, then, how surprised I was that "The Girl in the Cafe" was not only good, not only moving, but full-on riveting? It was, in fact, a case study in how a movie with very little action, a whole lot of pregnant pauses, a good deal of quiet awkwardness, can keep you on the edge of your seat for just under two hours.
All of which is to say: you should see "The Girl in the Cafe," if you haven't already. I'd write more, and better, if only it weren't approximately eight million degrees.