Mini-review: Children of Men.

Just finished watching "Children of Men." Out of 5 stars, I give this movie 6.

I'm kicking myself--or would be, if I were actually working out--for not seeing it in a theater. But in my defense, I have a good excuse. I'm not particularly anxious to see movies about infertility, because, well, I'm living that particular hell.

Now that I've seen the movie, I have one word for myself: Wimp. The movie's not about one infertile person. It's not even really about infertility. (Thank God, because that would involve charts and ovulation predictor kits and drugs and shots and scheduled sex and a host of other really unerotic things.) In "Children of Men," the whole human race is infertile, and has been for almost two decades. This is not good news for Gymboree or Baby Gap.

I can't even remember which film won Best Picture in this year's Oscars, but I can't stop thinking about "Children of Men." An incredible piece of film making, cinematography, acting, everything.

Oh, and it stars mega-biscuit Clive Owen, which in itself is enough to catapult it to the top of my list.