I am not ashamed to say that I found Cloud Atlas to be a beautiful movie.

I had read conflicting reviews, and I was somewhat hesitant to watch the heavy, pretentious movie that the critics saw. I was recently bitten by a classic foreign sci-fi, and not in the mood for a long drawn out navel-gazing-fest.

My concerns were heightened by the first few minutes. The story jumped frenetically in those minutes -- but then it stabilized. The story slowed. The narrative flowed, and I was drawn into each world.

There may have been some quiet moments, but I don't remember them. The moments were not loud in volume, special effects, or gore, but rather in the emotional impact of the stories told.

Against what I'd expect, I was seamlessly drawn into each story, and then unceremoniously interrupted by another equally compelling world. My emotions were drug low and held high, given a moment of laughter and a sigh.

The stories made me want to be a better man. I sat there thinking how stupid this was. "Here I am, watching a movie, and wanting to be a better man to my wife," but there the thought was.

Love, how trite is this device? How many times will we see it? Apparently not enough times to dull its bite.