KISS KISS, BANG BANG -- by naudy (9!)

This is the only photo I could find of chubby Val Kilmer wearing a velour track suit. I felt it was important I included a picture of Val's velour track suit because I found this particular track suit hilarious. Honestly, is there anything funnier than a paunchy cynical gay detective in a velour track suit? Because I can't think of anything.

I loved this movie. I laughed all the way through it. It's definately not for anyone who's allergic to the F-word, Robert Downey, Jr., or nudity. However, I'm theoretically allergic to all of these things and I laughed myself silly.

I think I loved the movie so much because I also happen to love pulp fiction. No, not the movie, the actual books. I'm a proud member of the Hard Case Crime Book Club, and I get my two paperback books sent to me once a month. I love 'em and I don't know why. I have theories, though. I might love them because they're mysteries without being another English country weekend murder story. I might love them because I love Humphrey Bogart and Sam Spade and film noir. I might love them because stuff happens and it's not all about feelings and making jam with your grandma. I might love them because I like how quickly I can read them. But, I think I really love them because they're a total and complete escape into a world I will never (hopefully) inhabit. It's a world where I don't have to be paranoid I'll hurt someone's feelings, a place where brutal actions follow quick decisions, where change is quick and twisty and often very very bad. I like this universe. It's someplace I never get to go, what with me being a girl and everything. If I decided to stand flat footed and punch someone in the face, no one would be on my side. But, in pulp-fiction land, everyone is cheering for me.

KISS KISS, BANG BANG is pulp fiction at it's best. It's clever, hysterical, engaging, and I really regret not seeing this film in the theater. If it had made more than $1.50 during it's theaterical release I might have gotten the sequel I now want to see. I loved this film and I'm sorry that Harry and Gay Perry will never again be on the big screen, track suit and all.

MRS. HENDERSON PRESENTS -- by naudy (6)

Do you have Netflix friends? I do. I actually have seven Netflix friends and I'm quite proud. It's pathetic, of course. I'm certain there are lots of people with lots more friends, in fact I'm certain there's a whole blossoming Netflix community. I'm not a part of that community, but it's really neat I'm sure.

Anyway, I mention it because MRS. HENDERSON PRESENTS was recommended to me by a Netflix friend of mine. This particular Netflix friend dosn't enjoy the same sort of film that I do. She is, in fact, only 57% similar. I know this because Netflix told me and Netflix very often neglects to show me the things this particular friend thinks/says/sees because of our dissimilarities.

But, MRS. HENDERSON PRESENTS was recommended to me by this friend and so I watched it. It's a cute enough film. Dame Judi is delighful, and the costuming/sets/lighting/overall production values are marvelous. It's a nice movie but I didn't love it. It felt shallow. It felt insincere and trivial and pleasant and meaningless, a pretty little bon-bon of a story. After watching it I assumed that my Netflix friend had only recommended it because it was the only movie she had seen that she could imagine me enjoying as well. She does, after all, tend to prefer films which involve disenchanted priests, people being insular and horrible, or movies with cute kids and puppies in 'em.

I saw this Netflix friend the other day and mentioned this movie. She gushed and I was hard pressed to come up with enough pleasant things to say about it. I'm starting to think that perhaps Netflix is right. Being only 57% similar to someone means their opinion, while well intentioned, is only very occassionally in sympathy with mine.