April 2nd, 2006

cass, can you not

Last night was movie night

So I went to the movieplex (next to a cemetery - Buenos Aires is weird like that) to watch Mon petit doigt m'a dit, based on an Agatha Christie novel.

When it was fun, it was *fun*, in that offhand, civilized, thoroughly enjoyable way the French sometimes are.

When it was scary, I'm man enough to say that it creeped the fuck out of me.

Now, I'm not much of a fan of French cinema; I'm partial to a coarser diet of extreme violence, hot girls in and out of skintight suits and lots of special effects, and some masterpieces of french (and, in general, non-Hollywood) cinema make want to claw my eyes out of sheer boredoom. But some of my favorite movies (The Purple Rivers I and II, TAIS-TOI! and now this one) are french. Weird.

It's like they have the secret to awesome movies (1. Cast Jean Reno.), but only use it now and then, when they need euros to finance filming the five-hour epic story of a dog looking for his lost chewing toy. [I know I'm mocking what I don't understand - but they only made two Purple Rivers, and there's no sequel to Wasabi; I'm vaguely peeved].
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cass, can you not

I shouldn't be left without adult supervision

I've just claimed Tim Drake at the psych_30 challenge.

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This will be both too easy (Tim is great for psych stuff) and insanely hard (Tim has to be written in a very precise way; it's easy to slip and make him either too Bat-like or too teenagerish. Tim himself hasn't managed to find a balance, so you have to sort of put in there the lack of balance, if you know what I mean).

ETA: Done! Yay!