Another way of looking at the issues that the Bechdel Test raises about the paucity of women onscreen…
I love Martin Freeman, I really do, but what the hell is this shit?
I think my very favorite is the prison cooking scene in GoodFellas: “He had this wonderful system for doing the garlic. He used a razor and he used to slice it so thin that it used to liquefy in the pan with just a little oil…”
I’m trying to figure out when ‘romantic comedies’ turned into ‘let’s throw two really despicable and unpleasant people together in the first act so they can hate on each other through the second act until they magically fall in love in the third act.’