Next to Thierry’s Friends’ crappy gadgets, I can’t think of a worse Valentine’s gift than a ticket to see “Winter’s Tale”. How much I hate this movie? let me count the ways. I hate the way Hollywood insults audiences by deciding a surrealistic love story is what we need for Valentine’s week. I hate the way Russell Crowe’s movies have gotten worse since 2007’s “American Gangster”. You want titles? “Tenderness”, “The Man with the Iron Fists”, “Broken City”. I hate that William Hurt, a veteran actor, got suckered into starring in this turkey. I hate how nothing about “Winter’s Tale” makes sense. I mean you gotta hate this story: Collin Farrell is a thief who falls in love with a dying young girl in 1916. But wait for it: He’s also a time traveler with a flying horse (what?). Wait wait I’m not done yet: there’s also Russell Crowe, who plays Lucifer’s henchmen (what the fuck?). And Lucifer is played by…Will Smith! You get my drift. The love scenes are drag-ass. Add shameless tearjerking when Farrell loses the love of his life (he just met her 10 minutes ago). You don’t need Einstein to see that paychecks were the prime motivation for this crappy love story. Watching Crowe and Farrell piss all over their career provides no pleasure at all. Instead, it made me feel sad. I hate “Winter’s Tale”. It’s a terrible thing to do to your date.