So I’ve been stuck on the couch for a while, due to a flare-up of my disease. Lots of finger/toe pain. Ironically, while getting out on my bike would no doubt help this problem, being in this much pain doesn’t really make me want to ride my bike. Or write long polemics on the state of biking today.
Instead, I’ve been catching up on all the “grown-up” movies I’ve missed while working and raising children, and re-familiarizing myself with the thing of schizophrenic beauty that is the modern BBC. In the interests of remaining entertaining during this biking lull, here are my thoughts on all this.
2-Sentence Movie Reviews:
Drive: Wow, so this is why people like Ryan Gosling. He’s handsome, the movie is atmospheric, the colors are so pretty and… OH MY GOD, THEY JUST BLEW UP THE GIRL FROM MAD MEN’S HEAD!
Shame: Michael Fassbender deserves an Oscar. Only he could look like Michael Fassbender naked and still manage to make the graphic sex scenes in this movie so completely unappealing.
Last Night: So Keira Knightley must choose between Sam Worthington or that gorgeous French guy who is married to Marion Cottillard, while Sam Worthington must choose between Kiera Knightley or Eva Mendes. First World Problems.
The Pianist: At some point, I forgot this was a Holocaust movie. I now remember why I’ve vowed never to watch any more Holocaust movies.
I Love You, Phillip Morris: Ewan McGregor should pretend to be a coquettish Southern gay man in all his movies. And I still maintain I met him in college, helped him not barf in the middle of the quad and promptly forgot him until I saw him on the big screen: “Oh hey, isn’t that the Scottish guy I kept from barfing in the quad?”
Trainspotting: Clearly, someone needed to keep Ewan McGregor from barfing in the quad, figuratively speaking. Heroin sucks: who knew?
Trust: It’s now official: I will watch Clive Owen in anything. Even if it involves internet predators and child molestation.
Somersault: Abbie Cornish is amazing, and made me love her even more as a totally convincing selfish and confused teenager. Sam Worthington is present, and has a mullet, which Australians apparently find irresistibly sexy.
Limitless: Isn’t that pretty much what everyone’s brain is like? Oh, I see… so that’s just me… <muttering>
Restrepo: I think this involves some guys in the Army doing some stuff in Afghanistan, and that I should feel this is both scary and noble, but man… what a poorly-made movie. I expected more from the guy who wrote The Perfect Storm, which is a really amazing book, like… you know… a coherent narrative would have been cool.
At this point, I moved on to the BBC:
Downton Abbey: Rich, beautiful, conniving people being served by poor, less-attractive, and even more conniving people. Sex, murder, pretty dresses, suffragettes, WWI: all this equals goodness.
North and South: Much better than the book, and I do not say that lightly. Richard Armitage is amazing, and has yet again reinforced my notion that handsome 19th Century men taking off their cravats is one of the sexiest things known to womankind (and a worthy heir he be to Colin Firth).
MI-5/Spooks: I managed to get through the first five seasons with the very tame violence, sharp plots, and dare I say it, BBC, not enough sex or nudity: what are you, NBC? Then… last night… in one episode, I got ridiculously sexy naked love scene followed by the main character hallucinating he’s in bed with 100’s of snakes then stumbling around the room fully naked (main MALE character, you understand). Well played, BBC: you get three sentences.
I have also reached the conclusion that the BBC is really just 25-30 British male actors who walk in circles around a giant studio lot, cheerfully dropping in on one another’s movies and TV shows for quick cameo performances between rounds at the local pub. “Hey, is that Hugh Laurie? Come be on Spooks for a couple episodes. We’ve got Mr. Darcy from that Pride and Prejudice movie. And when you’re done, send over that guy who was just in that Jane Eyre adaptation. And when he quits, we’ll bring in the hero from North and South. That’ll keep the ladies on their toes! And did you see Michael Maloney, and Rupert Graves? Send them over too so our viewers can lament how hot they were when they were young and had floppier hair. Oh, and anyone who looks vaguely Arabic. We’ve got a few parts for them to play… Cheers!”
Seriously. This is what it must be like over there.
More biking stuff soon.