First things first - yesterday roadnotes
linked to Mike Ford's wonderful, moving poem about 9/11. They are New Yorkers and I am not, however much I fantasize about other lives in which I spent most of my life there - so I would rather you follow their links. This does not make especial sense, but indulge me.
Yesterday, I went to see 'Stage Beauty', a good film, significantly improved by bumping into helenraven
in the cinema foyer and having someone to go and squee at over Mr Carluccio's excellent coffee afterwards.
I was really worried that 'Stage Beauty' would address issues of gender and sexuality only to run away from them in the happy ending, but it did not work out quite like that. ( Collapse )
I really did not plan to watch another film yesterday, but 'Heartbreakers' was on at the point when we were eating dinner - stir-fried lamb fillet with chili and mint on boiled kamut with steamed green beans, since you ask.
Sigourney Weaver is a goddess, that is most of what I want to say, and a movie in which she sings 'Back in the USSR' in a bad Russian accent is a movie which I may at some point decide to own, even though it has Jennifer Love Hewitt in it. Because - Ray Liotta and Anne Bancroft!
I feel in my bones that Bush is going to be re-elected and that it is going to be a disaster for the world.
O and it turns out, in The Bill that butch inspector Gina Gold and gangstermom Irene Radford have a past in which Irene was a famous cat burglar and Gina her nemesis. Be still my achingly slashy heart!