Sometimes I just geek out as if I had never been a proper mainstream literary intellectual. And lie on the sofa reading Fray and listening to the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack, when I should have been reading a major new work of Magic Realism, or that's what it says in the agent's letter, and playing the Scarlatti sonatas some more.
Still, this afternoon, I watched some of the Alien documentaries. Vincent Ward's version of the third film (the wooden spaceship idea) had stunning designs and he clearly got treated really badly by the studio. One of the suits said things were not explained in his script that, in the draft I read, clearly were. I am not such a fan of the Fincher version I've seen that I can't regret losing the Ward, but maybe the new version of Fincher will change that.