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Oh, glorious steampunk! Oh, glorious Victoriana! Oh, for a time when men were men (and not little boys) and industry meant hard work (and not corporate malfeasance) and optimism (and not despair) ruled the day. When the future was so bright, you hadda wear shades.
The town got very pretty once the sun set and the lights started coming on…
Yesterday I spent what wasn’t Thanksgiving Day in London in France, in the industrial city of Lille…
A more mature love story, one about what it takes to maintain a relationship after that first blush of love and that first rush of hormones, and the stupid mistakes that can threaten it.
It is leaden where it should be light. It is graceless and charmless. It reels from the painful banter. It is the epitome of empty soulless corporate filmmaking.
Unlike the weird “sexy” ad I bitched about the other day, this is clever, subversive, and not sexist…
Why does no one ever intone at me and tell me to go to Budapest and wear polyester and smoke cigarettes and get all espionagey, dammit?
I love Martin Freeman, I really do, but what the hell is this shit?
There’s a lot of would-be wrenching stuff that One Day tries to pull that it doesn’t earn.
I’m afraid I’d probably do something like this if confronted with angry kids stealing and burning.
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