I also start a lot of sentences with "Anyway," which probably indicates that I get sidetracked a lot.
What was I saying? Oh right, you of course have read both of the books I recommended yesterday, so you get a movie treat. Houseboy had libarry business to take care of in downtown yesterday afternoon, so when he was done he met me after work and we went up to the River East theater, wandered around looking for one particular Irish bar among the clumps of Irish bars in downtown and somehow circling it about twenty times before it appeared out of nowhere like that one town [insert literary reference here]*, and then offered us hummus.
After the hummus, we saw the movie showing closest to when we arrived at the theater, which was Drag Me To Hell. Even though I like horror movies, I was skeptical about this one at first, expecting it to be in the vein of recent horror movies, which are really just torture porn**. But then I read that it was written and directed by Sam Raimi, of Evil Dead, et al. fame, and that it was going to be funny. Well, ok, I was still skeptical even then, because I liked the Evil Dead movies and found them funny and all, but I've seen plenty enough 80s horror/comedy failures to know that that formula is not always successful.
Anyway, to cut this rambling nonsense to shorterness, I will avoid any in-depth discussion of the distinction between "death" and "hell" or the slippery slope of sin that leads us from denying old ladies bank loans to condemning people to torture for eternity because we can't take responsibility for our own actions, or why an Indian dude can translate Spanish, and just say: FUNNY. It was FUNNY. And jump-scare and gross-out scary. If you liked Shaun of the Dead, you'll like it. If you didn't like Shaun of the Dead, you should read this post, and then never come back here because you have deep-seated mental and emotional problems that I can't help you with.
Oh, and if you go see it, be on the lookout for a great scene between the main character, her boyfriend and her boyfriend's parents, in which he says "HAVE. You HAVE a cat... unless something happened to it?" and she gives the funniest, creepiest damn look I've seen in a movie in a long time.
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* I know it's Brigadoon, and it's not a book, it's a musical. Shutup you face.
** Obviously, I didn't make up that awesome turn of phrase:
There are people who don't like Shaun of the Dead? What is the world coming to? Hell in a hand-basket, says I!
ReplyDeleteAlso, I'm still giggling about your silverware in the dishwasher comment. Still.
It seems we are kindred spirits. Is that going too fast? Should I back off your blog?
ReplyDeleteI won't even if you tell me to, I'll just start a whole new blog profile, pretend to be someone different and start this all over again. No, I haven't done that before.
I was just going to tell you that...I think you're my new favorite person.
ReplyDeleteBut I felt weird about just putting my feelings out there like that.
I think we might need to spoon.
I'd spoon with you, but you should know I have the jimmy legs. And the jimmy arms. Pretty much the jimmy everything. If you don't mind me kicking you and occasionally waking you up to kill imaginary giant spiders, then we're all good.
ReplyDeleteThat's cool because I have random dreams about cockroaches and wake up puking on myself. So I think we're even.
ReplyDelete