Today I watched--sort of watched--The Cars that Ate Paris, directed by Peter Weir. I'd heard about this film and tried to like it, but I found it to be too little, too slow. Motel Hell without the fun. The Wicker Man without the Equalizer. Or Captain Corelli for that matter. Peter Jackson might have been able to make something of it, but then I really wouldn't have wanted to watch it.
Now I'm trying to watch The Terror of Tiny Town. The IMDB plot summary suggests that I might reasonably expect some "zany antics" at some point to "ensue." Hmm. A barbershop ("tonsorial parlor") with a barbershop quartet--zany? Perhaps, since there's also a penguin in there. Eighteen minutes in, and no antics to speak of, however. And I'm thinking that some of these actors were hired for reasons other than their acting ability.
Tomorrow, or soon, I will write about why Psych is the best show on TV. Dulé Hill visited our campus a while back to talk about Obama and was smarter than one might reasonably expect an actor to be, but at that point I hadn't seen the show, so I didn't go up and say something stupid to him. And I never watched West Wing (gasp!).
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