John? John, we need to talk. I don't know quite how to say this but, well, I saw Johnny English this weekend. At first, I was so excited. I didn't even know you were in that movie. I thought it was one of those sweet little things you do to surprise me. I should have known better, I see that now. But I couldn't help it, I got my hopes up. I saw you and I thought we were going to have a wonderful time for 80 minutes or so and you would be sexy and evil and maybe even funny. You let me down, John, you really did.

It had such potential too. You were the villain. You were the privileged, self-absorbed, egomaniacal villain that we both know you do so well. But then there was that fake French accent. And the Prince Valiant hairdo. And the not evil and not funny and really (I'm so sorry to say this) the not sexy. There was that one point where I thought you were going to pull it out too, if only for a minute. Where you threw yourself down sideways in that chair and struck a pose of utter boredom and disaffection. But that's all it was, John, a pose. There was no fire there, no nastiness, no evil.

John, I think this is the end for us. No please, let me finish. It just hasn't been the same the last few years. You went your way and I went mine and we're just less there for each other. I have to admit that I don't even see all your movies anymore. I'm sorry, John, I know that hurts. But really, how long has it been since you have done our kind of movie? Be honest now. The truth is that we both stopped trying. I can't keep pretending that you are giving me what I need, and you can't keep making the same movie over and over again just to keep me happy. It's time to move on.

And remember, we'll always have Valmont.