
dammit dammit dammit, Philip Seymour Hoffman is gone
Every movie he touched was better for it.
Every movie he touched was better for it.
With links to my reviews. I’ll be adding reviews of the last few films I haven’t yet covered between now and the Oscars.
Links my followers on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+ saw today…
Disappointed to learn that this is not a film about the renegade Time Lord who has been hounding the Doctor for centuries.
With this episode, for the first time, I compared the British broadcast with the version that aired on Sci Fi, and I’m furious! Sci Fi cut out some really vital stuff, vital to plot and theme and character and color.
“The Master is Prime Minister of Great Britain… the Master and his wife?” Lucy is such a wonderful conundrum. She clearly knows her husband is up to a whole bunch of No Good, and is cool with that, but does she know the real deal with him? Does she know he’s an alien? Or does she lie in bed with him at night and wonder about that strange echo in his heartbeat?
Why am I being tormented so? I was fine. I was comfortable. I was resigned to the fact that I was going to have to live my life here on boring old Earth at the tedious pace of 60 minutes to the hour, seven days to the week, 365 days to the year, ten years to the decade.