Tiny Godzilla since 1975
5 years, 2 months ago, in the late evening
- Ellen and I felt brave the other day, so we went to see The Spirit. The Spirit somehow achieves eyeball-punishing dullness using elements that would otherwise add up to a fascinating (if bizarre) cinematic experience. It’s vibrant and catchy visually, with excruciating pulp dialogue and a baffling mythos; but even the atomic-scale strangeness can’t make it interesting. This flick is weirder than a two-headed hamster with a peg leg; and it evokes roughly the same confusion, revulsion, and pity.
- Aric, Alex T. and I went to go see Underworld: Rise of the Lycans the other night, and I really enjoyed it. Yes, I know it’s kind of deeply terrible — but the whole franchise is hideously flawed in a manner that in no way interferes with my hand-flapping worship thereof. My fangirlish adoration of the worldsetting is bone-deep and unwavering, and this prequel did nothing to dim my glee. It’s unrelentingly bleak, unapologetically gothic, goofily romantic, and utterly vicious. Loved it, loved it, loved it.
- Today I had lunch with Psynde, who brought Spain the Cat a new toy: A laser pointer with rotating wheel of pictures. She can chase a butterfly, a star, a smiley face, or a mousie. At the moment, the butterfly is the big winner. I wore her out playing with this thing for over an hour; now she’s sacked out on top of her cat tree, snoring like a goose with a harmonica.