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‘I wanna kill myself,’ Craig tells the triage nurse. ‘Fill this out,’ she tells him boredly, handing him some paperwork. Yet the film steadfastly refuses to go anywhere near cultural criticism of how we now turn ordinary frustrations and disappointments into medical diagnoses…
Friday fun! Here’s a screen capture from a TV show on DVD. Guess the TV show — you don’t need to guess the episode, just the show. And if you assume it’s something I’ve said I’m watching or said I like, you’re not necessarily on the right track.
Benedict Cumberbatch is the sexiest high-functioning sociopath ever, and Martin Freeman is a Watson to be reckoned with. Instead of telegrams and monographs it’s all texts and blogs, but the best way to get around this 21st-century Holmes’ London is still by cab.
…but Richard Armitage as Thorin Oakenshield? I hope they don’t bury that gorgeous face of his under mountains of latex…
…and I thought I might be able to get to it today, but it’s looking now like that’s not gonna happen. Maybe I can squeeze it in next week. Too many movies, not enough time…
I’m all for useless desk toys, but this might be a time machine too far even for me…
It’s so nice to roll around in the ’nip. No fair hogging it, though!
That’s pretty much the whole movie right there. I hate when they do that…
The latest fracas involving the MPAA — the board that rates films for release in the United States — concerns the indie Blue Valentine, which has received an NC-17 rating for its sexual content, which is actually fairly minimal and mostly not terribly, you know, sexy. The film does, however, feature an instance of a man pleasuring a woman orally…
It starts out all sad music at momma’s funeral and we gots to sell the horse farm, but dang if nobody can keep Diane Lane down.
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