I went to see Peter Pan, making the past twelve months one of my most movie-intensive periods in my life. I've seen four in theaters since last March 1; five if you count Imax theaters. Singaporean theaters assign seats, which is ludicrous when there are a total of twelve people at the showing, and it's more amazing how many people stick to the assignments.
It was a surprisingly well-done movie. Marvelous cast, nifty use of CGI to generally give things a surreal, storybook look and avoid gunmetal gray stuff with weird lighting quirks that doesn't fool the eye. It also avoids having too much characters whispering in English accents, something that annoys me every time it shows up in a movie. Very well-plotted; I was surprised how short it was considering all the events packed in.
It's a dangerous movie for me, though; every version of Peter Pan leaves me weepy, and I don't know whether I feel worse for Peter or for Wendy. It's always been like that, but gotten worse since I became a wizard, which is a steady job of being Wendy while trying to look like I'm Peter. I'm glad I saw it, and I may get it when it comes out on VCD/DVD, but boy did it shatter me, in the tragic and in the triumphant moments.
Trivia: It is impossible to prove, starting from the ordinary axioms of set theory, whether the smallest infinite set larger than the integers is the set of real numbers or not. Source: Journeys Through Genius: The Great Theorems of Mathematics, William Dunham.
Currently Reading: Tracking Apollo To The Moon, Hamish Lindsay.