Once

Oh man. You know how my life could be one hundred percent more soulful? If I were fifteen years younger, and seriously strapped for cash, and a musician, and dressed always in warm layers. Maybe if I smoked, too, but probably hanging out with people who smoke a lot would do just as well. That's what I gather, anyway, from "Once," a lovely, lovely, romantic movie that manages to be both dreamy and realistic at the same time. We saw it last night (*again* the spouse's choice; I clearly need to leave movie selection up to him from now on) and it just broke my heart. It was a salutary corrective to the high-buff sheen of last week's "Nanny Diaries." I stand by what I said about melting at the sight of expensive clothes, but good heavens--"Once" is a pretty powerful reminder of how frighteningly (and exhileratingly) unadorned and unpolished love and attraction are.