This evening I watched The Born-Again Virgin. Oh wait, no. I watched Maidenhead Revisited. That's not right either. Brideshead Revisited. And can I say, what a dreary bore. Emma Thompson and Michael Gambon add light to anything. The rest of the cast put me to sleep. Here's the equivalent to Prozac: Romantic atheist painter (zzzz) goes to Oxford, meets up with some homos, one of whom barfs in his apartment then brings him home to his lavish estate. The barfer has mommy issues (if Emma were my mother, I would too because I'd want to hang out with her ALL THE TIME) and kisses boring painter. BP kisses depressing sister who has a bob, which is witnessed by barfer. Everyone throws a tizzy. People die and other bad marriages ensue. BP and Bob are reunited on board a ship and have sex, screw up their lives, but ultimately Bob goes back to God and BP becomes a soldier. So now you don't have to rent it. Read the book instead!
Last night's Desperate Housewives: What scared me was how skinny Swootsie Kurtz was. I love her, though, and enjoyed the positivity of female friendship. She and Teri ran an art room together but I thought both would collapse from breaking of toothpick legs. It's time for everyone to eat!
R.I.P to Ron Silver. Such a pleasure to watch. I have a difficult time imagining that some entertainers are gone. He is one of them.
No comments:
Post a Comment