Presidential Pain

This is an Election Year, and I am tempted to just keep that title for the rest of the year, which I’ll likely spend pretending to not be a member of the human race. Have you looked at the paper lately? It’s scary out there.

But this is not about politics. I will freely discuss this morning’s bowel movements before I will discuss politics, and let me be frank here, I will not discuss this morning’s bowel movement. Banging my head repeatedly into a brick wall is preferable to discussing politics, as the brick wall will let me stop, yet the end result is the same.

So now that I’m discussing politics, let me segue smoothly into what this is actually about, which is what I did on President’s Day.

Now, I realize that I am a poor excuse for an American because I did not buy new furniture on President’s Day, which is apparently the traditional method of celebration.  No, in a series of mishaps and professional obligations, there had not been a Crapfest in many months. Some of us felt this absence quite keenly, and bemoaned the fact that there was a major project at Main Street Theater that was taking host Dave out of the equation through March.

Then Dave remembered President’s Day.

That was going to be a day off for him, and for Alan, who is another actor who wouldn’t be doing children’s shows on a school holiday. I work at a State college, so I was also free for that day, and the economy had finally caught up with Rick, who was unemployed, or as he put it, “Finally free to find a decent job.”  Paul and Jeff had to work, as they are employed by Nazis who care nothing for our great country’s heritage and furniture shopping. The Other Dave had to bow out at the last minute, dealing with a flu epidemic in his household.

So there was just the four of us, the original four. Haha, how we laughed at the others, and indulged in the sudden glut of fabulous junk food that had brought in anticipation of a crowd twice our size. We were the Hardcore of the Apocalypse!

And, judging from the way the evening played out, we were determined to put that to the test.

As we counted coup, doled out the chips and various dips and party trays, the Warner Archive disc of The Mighty Mightor and Moby Dick played in the background. Yes, the glorious days of a caveman superhero and a literary giant reduced to fighting supervillains with two teens named Tom and Tub. You can safely assume Tub was the fat one.

Dave then started the ball rolling with… oh God… with… (just take a deep breath and say it) …Jokes My Folks Never Told Me. You will get nervous during the opening credits when you notice the number of Woolerys involved in this production – not one of which is Chuck. This could generously be called a sketch anthology movie in the vein of Kentucky Fried Movie, though lacking the wit, originality, or energy of that movie. The script for Jokes is apparently taken from one of those “adult” joke books I kept seeing in bus terminals back in the 70s. The reason your folks never told you these jokes were a) your parents likely had some wit and taste, and b) they knew how pathetically ancient the jokes were, and assumed they had long ago been buried in the cornfield.

Actions which – in the source joke, in its original form in that joke book – would be glossed over with a few words, are played out in real time to pad the running time. There are plenty of naked women to make sure you don’t demand your money back, yet not enough to dull the ennui that somehow also cuts like a knife. Here’s a couple of clips. Don’t click on them.

YouTubes of this movie come and go, so let’s see how long these last, especially that NSFW first joke. The second joke is significant, I am told, because the teen is a young Anthony Keidis from The Red Hot Chili Peppers. That is still no reason to click on these clips, which, incidentally, you should not do.

FOOL! I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT! Well, now, imagine this going on for 82 minutes. I also swear that the movie was actually three hours long. In fact, Dave was surprised to discover that the second gorilla sketch was NOT the end of the movie, and that it in fact went on for another twenty minutes/years.

I took this photo of Rick at the very moment his soul left his body, after about the third “Farmer’s Daughter” sketch:

Dave claims he was introduced to this movie at the age of 12 by some hellspawned classmate whose parents had Showtime or something. Dave is also a horrible War Crimes Nazi whose word cannot be trusted in any way, manner or form.

We started doing serious damage to Dave’s vodka supply during this, and decided to cook up the pulled pork Rick had brought to fortify ourselves, and to let scar tissue develop over our raw, bleeding psyches after Jokes My Folks Never Told Me. During this, we played Sh! The Octopus which I was introduced to by Sandy Peterson at the last T-FestSh! is a darned fine parody of Old Dark House movies, made during the heyday of old dark house movies,  featuring some jokes the Three Stooges would later rip-off and that odd comedian who goes “Woo hoo hoo! Woo hoo!” during old Looney Tunes. It is also available from Warner Archive, a gesund on them.

It was also apparently too full of quality, as it was pulled off before finishing, even if it is only about an hour long. Too bad, as we never got to the best damned part of the movie. THIS IS A TREMENDOUS SPOILER, so don’t watch it if you ever intend to see Sh! The Octopus or if you have a head full of drugs:

And what did we take Sh! The Octopus off to watch? Things. This is bitter irony at industrial levels of bitter.

There is an alternate timeline in which I never fell in with the Daily Grindhouse guys, and in which I never saw Things. This alternate me is much happier, and does not have the pale, haunted look which I now sport. Things is a Canadian straight-to-video horror movie, from the spectacular salad days of Canadian straight-to-video horror movies. By which I mean a couple of metalhead hosers decided they liked horror movies, so they should make a horror movie. How hard can it be, eh?

Things is made on Super 8, the sound is almost totally dubbed, the music editing is done, charitably, with a hatchet and scotch tape. In order to get some name recognition for the box, they gave porn star Amber Lynn $2500 to play a news anchor and to read some cue cards which get further and further away from the camera. The only bit I can find on YouTube is a mash between one of Lynn’s more lucid news bumpers, and an appearance by star/producer Barry Gillis on actual Canadian TV to pimp the movie:

Thank your lucky stars that there’s no more of Things on YouTube. This movie is maddening. A horror movie plot is set in place, which is then studiously ignored for most of the movie. Excuses like “Dream logic” and “surrealism” are tendered in its defense – and the trouble is you can almost buy that. Why would characters be doing strange, nonsensical things in these circumstances, unless the script meant them to? Is there even really a script? Is this genius, or hackwork?

If I were to go through every bizarre … thing… in Things, we would be here all night. Here’s The Daily Grindhouse podcast that started this misery. Joe Bannerman says I sound defeated throughout. That’s a fair assessment. I can tell you it hit Crapfest like a neutron bomb. Alan’s brain seemed to shut itself down in self-defense. His wife would later ask us what we had done to him. “Destroyed his ability to ever again feel joy” was the answer.

Curse you, Canada. You fight dirty.

There really is no way to follow up Things; everything tastes like ashes. Dave put on possibly the only thing he could, which was Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story. This is the short film that traces the professional life of Karen Carpenter and her ultimate death due to anorexia nervosa – and it’s all done with Barbie dolls. Despite that, it’s a serious look at the disorder, and quite sympathetic to Karen, although this is accomplished by making everybody else unsympathetic. The work with the dolls is pretty remarkable, especially the sets. However, filmmaker Todd Haynes didn’t get permission for the umpteen songs used on the soundtrack, lost a copyright infringement suit, and all copies of the movie were ordered destroyed (though apparently MoMA keeps a copy it cannot show). Therefore, WE WERE STRIKING A BLOW FOR LIBERTY ON PRESIDENTS DAY, YO.

Alan excused himself about midway through Superstar;  he had early morning shows the next day. He was currently involved in Jackie and Me, which is about Jackie Robinson breaking the color barrier in baseball, and he was apparently playing Utility Racist #1. Too bad he left early, because we finished up the evening with something Rick had been plugging for a long time, and I finally came over to his side after hearing a Projection Booth podcast on itDarktown Strutters. If he’d stayed, Alan could have picked up some Racist Tips.

Holy cow.

The Darktown Strutters is a small (four members) female motorcycle gang who all ride trikes and have impressively outre helmets. The leader, Syreena (Trina Parks, who played Thumper in Diamonds are Forever) is looking for her missing mother; she joins up with a street gang/doo-wop gang, finds out the corruption goes deep into the police’s reactionary Alert Squad, and is led by the local philanthropist/food magnate, who is a dead ringer for Colonel Sanders.

That short synopsis sounds like pretty typical blaxploitation fare, but what it does not tell is how bugfuck insane this movie turned out to be. This is basically a human cartoon, complete with sped-up foot chases and comedy sound effects. It is so far removed from reality that at its most racist, it somehow doesn’t seem too mean-spirited, and believe me, this movie is racist against everyone. At one point I opined that this was actually the movie Robert Townsend was in at the climax of Hollywood Shuffle, where the white director is telling him that his pimp character should thrust his butt out because “You know how those people walk.”

It is one bewildering moment after another; The Colonel has the world’s smallest cotton patch in his front yard, faithfully being picked by compliant darkies clad in Antebellum clothing, and numbers among his servants ringers for Aunt Jemima and Uncle Ben (in fact, Aunt Jemima hands out huge pancakes to be used as throwing weapons in the final fight scene). Syreena, escaping the extensive dungeons under the mansion, comes upon The Dramatics, in a cell, who proceed to sing a medley of their hit, “What You See Is What You Get”, while Syreena grooves nearby (that particular alarm system certainly stopped her escape). There are Klansmen on motorcycles. The Alert Squad has a light the size of a Volkswagen atop their car. And, of course, the fat cop who is always getting stuck in the back seat of that car (and any doorway he encounters) is named Officer Tubbins, which is surely the best name since Porkins. Or maybe he was meant to be the character from Moby Dick, all grown up.

This is where Darktown Strutters – which was later re-titled Get Down and Boogie when it became apparent that no one wanted to see a movie named after a somewhat racist Ragtime standard – becomes a worthy follow-up to Things: is it a parody of blaxploitation movies? Or merely the worst blaxploitation movie ever made? (I still say that’s Blackenstein, but that’s a discussion for another day – we’re already over 2000 words here).

This movie will WHAT?

After Darktown Strutters, Dave, Rick and I just sat there for a while, silent, stunned. It had been a brutal evening, to be sure. Usually Crapfests are punctuated by at least one movie that is enjoyable and affirming in its own way – the musical version of Jack the Giant Killer, the unfettered mayhem of Shogun Assassin… this time, though, it was three movies that probably shouldn’t exist, for which there is no good reason, and we felt like we had gone ten rounds with Rocky. Dave later said he hadn’t felt that whipped since we had sat through an evening composed of three movies by or featuring Graydon Clark.

I wish to point out that was Dave’s brilliant idea, and everyone regretted it. Except for Rick, who finally got to see Joysticks again.

I felt tired, but it was a good tired. In a lot of ways, it was facing the worst life had to throw at you, and coming out the other side, shaken but alive and triumphant. There will some day be another Crapfest – and hopefully we will have some movies that have actual plots – but when those who did not attend complain about the movies, we will look at them from our battle-scarred heights and intone, “Fuck you. I’ve seen Things,” but only because it would take too long to say “Fuck you, Tinkerbell, I saw Jokes My Folks Never Told Me, Things AND Darktown Strutters all in the same day.

Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down

Let’s start with stuff written Friday:

As you may have noticed, I am now the owner of the elusive “” domain. Surely wealth and fame are just around the corner now.

Sorry, I just convulsed myself with laughter. I’m better now.

Having taken the more than slightly egotistic plunge of buying my own name – or at least the faintly ridiculous nom de guerre I devised one sleepless night in the 90s – I find myself thinking I should be doing more with this blog. what the living hell that should be is beyond my monkey brain.

I really admire people who update their blogs daily. I tried that once and the results were pulse-poundingly banal. In fact, I think all I did was bitch about my job at the time. It may have made me feel a little better to vent, but I can’t imagine that’s the sort of thing that builds up an ardent readership. I like my current job a lot better, and I think it’s been quite some time since I’ve used the “Seething Impotent Rage” category.

I’m still filled with Seething Impotent Rage, mind you now, but it is about the usual things, as in a fuckton of stupidity being paraded through the much-derided mainstream media disguised as leadership. That ain’t gonna change soon, and I am considering moving into a cave – with a really long extension cord – until, say, next December. In a whole lot of ways, I wish the panic-crows are right and the world ends in December. The people who want to run my life (and their apparently endless hordes of willing cannon fodder) are not giving me a whole lot of hope for the future.

But thinking like that makes my head hurt.

Well, now that I’ve already punched the Seething Impotent Rage button, let me continue with this vintage glass of White Whine: what the hell is this weekend that everybody is talking about? They sound really nice. I wish I could have one.

Just to illustrate what I mean: tomorrow – Saturday – I will get up and travel to the 1940 Air Terminal Museum for their Chopper Day event. “Chopper” as in helicopters and motorcycles. I seem to have become the go-to guy for motorcycle stories here. All this really does is make me miss my motorcycle-ridin’ days. However, the weather report calls for rain, rain and more rain, so we’ll see how successful this story will be.

That evening, I have a show. I almost always have a show on Saturday. Having a shoot on Saturday morning also means I have a chance of being extra-gimpy for that night’s show. This is also the last Saturday night for Shadowlands.

Sunday, I have been given a break, and won’t be performing at the early church service. The possibility of sleeping in a bit leads into the Sunday matinée of Shadowlands – the final performance – and then we get to spend the evening striking the set. Since I shouldn’t be trusted with dangerous tools, I will likely be carrying cast-off set elements to the dumpster, loudly declaiming that I’m certainly glad I went to college so I could avoid manual labor.

But what do you know, I work at a State institution, so President’s Day is an actual holiday for me. There will perforce be a Very Special Crapfest, with other actors with a day off. True, not being salaried, I’ll be making up those hours with longer days the rest of the week, but at least that ends up with …another weekend that I get to work through. Crap.

And so, by starting off with an explanation of the type of blog post I hate, I have managed to create a blog post of the type I hate. Guess I needed more irony in my diet.

EARLY MORNING SUNDAY UPDATE: I decided to sit on this one for a bit, not sure if the Impotent Seething Rage was unseemly or not. I guess we now know the final decision on that. - because you're not depressed enough yet.

Yes, Chopper Day was rained out. But the website said “Rain or shine”, so I decided to go to the museum and see what their Plan B might be. Plan B apparently involves standing around and looking at anyone who walks in the door as if they were insane. As I Tweeted, Oh, well, maybe I can find a nice bake sale to cover, somewhere.

Still exhausted when I finished last night’s show. I think one of my oldest friends was at the show last night, but we missed each other somehow. I am nagged by the thought that I should have tried harder, should have swept through the theater at least one more time, but my exhaustion, the 40 minute drive home, and my increasingly insistent cough won that argument. I may have gotten a halfway decent night’s sleep last night. I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention.

Fairly early Sunday, as I type this addendum. I’m likely going back to bed, having eaten my oatmeal and morning pills (protip: don’t get old). This week is going to be a chore, and I need all the rest I can get.

Hey! I said that about last week!

The Other List

Okay, last week I daringly shared my list of 30 quality movies I fully intended to watch (or rewatch) in the coming year, with a rather optimistic goal of watching half of them by the Summer.  I also made oblique mention of another list.

Look, I can’t go cold turkey off the stuff I usually watch. Can’t, and won’t. I fully realize that watching every single Kubrick film in one go is a dangerous enterprise. All that clinical artistic detachment would be likely to start a horrific (but meticulously controlled) psychotic episode. So there is an alternate list of more questionable *harrumph* fare that I can use as a safety valve.

Again, the ground rules are similar. All are movies I own (in some cases, for years) . I must have not seen it – no dispensations for viewings a decade or more in the past, as with the Quality List. There are some movies on this list that could have easily gone on the former list, but are marginal enough that I plopped them on this one.

1. Americathon – the first of several Warner Archive discs on this list. Rather surprised no one’s attempting a remake of this one yet, given the events of the past decade.

2. The Big Doll House – well, I saw The Big Bird Cage  years ago, it’s high time I did the predecessor.

3. The Rats Are Coming! The Werewolves Are Here! – What has to be my favorite Andy Milligan title, for a movie I’ve never seen. I enjoy Milligan’s threadbare period pieces far more than I should.

4. The Cell – so I can finally get Dave off my ass about not having seen it.

5. Jackie Brown – yeah, yeah, for a Tarantino fan, I sure have dropped the ball on this one. On top of that, it’s the one everybody seems to love. The first one that easily could have gone on That Other List.

6. Cleopatra Jones and The Casino of Gold –  another Warner Archive offering.

7. Big Bad Mama – Angie Dickinson and William Shatner embarrassing themselves  in a Corman-produced Depression crime/exploitation flick? Sign me up. I have the disc that identifies this as one of “Roger Corman’s early films”. Should really try to get the Shout! Factory version.

8. El Mariachi – I know, I know, what rock have I been under.

9. Drive Angry – picked up the Blu-Ray at a Black Friday sale for like 4 bucks. Screw you, I like Nic Cage. Speaking of which:

10. Bad Lieutenant, Port of Call: New Orleans

11. Vigilante – a part of exploitation cinema I’ve been missing out on.

12. Fight for Your Life – same as the above. Also similar in that I only theoretically  own them, as I am still waiting for them to arrive from the legendarily tardy Horror Movie Empire.

13. Eyes Without A Face – I am told this also could go on the Quality List. Having not seen it yet, I can’t really say.

14. The Fountain – I’m told this should be on the Pretentious List, but I don’t have one of those.

15. Johnny Firecloud – owned for years. An incredibly mean-spirited revenge drama, by all indications.

16. Dark of the Sun – Warner Archive again. Some revival showings in LA got good press, and I tend to like movies about mercs.

17. Major Dundee – proving there’s still some Peckinpah I’ve never seen.

18. Machete – I know, right? I been busy.

19. The Reaping – another sub-sub genre I like but rarely see done well: biblical prophecy coming true.

20. Ravenous – shut up. I been busy.

21. [REC] – ain’t bothering with the American re-make. Ain’t gonna do it.

22. Shaun of the Dead-  Shut UP.

23. Hot Fuzz – see number 22, above.

24. Snakes On A Plane – can you really blame me for not seeing this yet? Was there ever any way it was going to live up to that title?

25.  Sucker Punch – then there are movies that I hear terrible, horrible things about, and I still have to see them because I have to make my own decision about things. I would really like to join in on the general lynch mob, but I have to actually see the movie first. Jonah Hex, for instance, is a total waste, but I still say nice things about Star Trek V and Robocop 2.

26. Then Came Bronson – yet another Warner Archive disc. I actually remember when the series, short-lived as it was, played on TV. Don’t remember anything else about it. And I really like Michael Parks.

27. Vanishing Point – the original version, dammit. Yet another I cannot believe I have spent my life not watching.

28. The Good, The Bad, The Weird – You knew some Asian oddity had to show up, didn’t you?

29. Ronin – One of John Frankenheimer’s last films, this has also been on the “to watch someday” list for a long time.

The more astute at this point might say, “But wait – this list is only 29 movies long, and The Other List was 30! Aren’t you short-changing yourself?” Well, thank you for being astute, but no, I haven’t. This is because last weekend I watched number 30 on that list, Horror Express.

Horror Express was pretty hard to miss on TV runs in the 80s, I’m told. Apparently it was on Elvira’s show more than once, in which case I probably passed over it. I was reasonably certain it would be cut under such circumstances, and TV cuts of horror movies usually wind up being worse than useless. Also, with the advent of VCRs and then DVDs, commercial interruptions to a movie’s flow became ever more onerous to me.

I found  Horror Express to be a delightfully odd movie. The suspense was fairly nonexistent for the first act, but picked up considerably once the creature started moving through the train, and the eventual veering into science-fiction territory was very fresh, even if there was some questionable science on display. Christopher Lee was his expected powerful monolith, letting Peter Cushing have all the good lines. Telly Savalas was even more off the rails (so to speak) than usual. Still not certain about the rationale behind the resolution, but what the heck. An enjoyable 90 minutes, and the Blu-ray from Severin Films was absolutely gorgeous, showing only occasional damage around the reel changes.

Now the increasing pressures of the last few weeks and having a sick kid this week are beginning to show: a mild tickling in my throat is turning into a full-bodied cough, and I’m feeling a bit light-headed. I’ve informed my body it cannot get sick until next Tuesday, and even then there are scheduling pressures, but it doesn’t seem to be listening.

In other words, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Have a nice weekend.

This Year’s List

We’re entering the third week of four in the production of Shadowlands at the Texas Repertory Theater. That means, so far, eight standing ovations in eight performances. I wish I could grab a bit of the credit for that, but I think it’s largely due to the performance of our C.S. Lewis, Steven Fenley. He’s wanted to play this role for years, and is by turns charming and then ripping his emotional guts out as the second act progresses. Here’s a link to a review.I got singled out for special mention. I’ll take that; after all, I’m a minor character, in only 6 scenes.

Your Long-suffering Narrator (left)

So in two weeks we’ll tear down the set. I’ll celebrate the next day – President’s Day, a State holiday for the college – with a Very Special Crapfest, then go back to spending my evenings trying to rough out that goddamn novel. At least until another, similar creative project comes along to distract me. The Wednesday following that Crapfest I’ll be reporting back to the dentist for should be my last major visit. Major because I’ll be losing the last of the worthless teeth and having a set of partial dentures slapped on, which will mean some pain and discomfort for a while, but I’m used to pain and discomfort from that particular region. Both my mother and grandmother had full dentures before they were 30 years old. Finally getting partials at the ripe old age of 55 is, I think, very much a victory.

It’s the ripe old age thing that’s particularly bothersome. I’m told that 60 is the new 40, but phooey on that. After spending two hours in the dental chair yesterday, I felt every one of those years. The dentist and assistant were concerned that I was dizzy and I had to tell them that no, I was simply stiff and my bum leg needed to loosen up, but thanks for your concern. Shadowlands has caused me a lot of pain in over-using that limb, but I think it’s gotten a little stronger through the exercise. Humor me.

It’s that, the dentures, the fact that I now take eight pills every morning and two at night. I don’t exactly have one foot in the grave, but reminders of my mortality are certainly stacking up. This is the sort of things that drives other folk to great things and lofty goals. Me, I just think about all the movies and books I haven’t gotten to, yet.

Now, I don’t generally do New Year’s Resolutions (mainly because I don’t need a special occasion to lie to myself).  But this year, I swore that I would watch a better class of movie. I honestly don’t regret a lifetime watching crap and disposable cinema; I’m not going to apologize for something I love that also doesn’t hurt anybody else. But there has been an essential part of my education that has been lacking, So I’ve laid down some goals for this year, and I am going to do my very best to keep to them. Confidence is high.

First: I have to already own these movies. They’ve been sitting there mocking me long enough, as I pass them over to watch Scott Pilgrim for the 14th time. I made one exception here, but we’ll get to that. After I’ve gotten through what I already own, we can start considering acquisition once more, which would mean movies like The Rules of the Game and Solaris.

Preference is given to movies I have not yet seen, though The List has several that I simply haven’t seen in 20 or more years. My head is in a different place now.

There are 30 movies on this list. I intend to have half of them seen by Summer. I’m a bachelor this Spring Break, and I intend to use this opportunity to its fullest.

So, here’s my list. There are probably going to be a few “You haven’t seen _______? How is that possible?“s.

1. Fear and Desire – you are going to see Stanley Kubrick’s entire filmography on this list; my determination to see it all, in order, is what started this project. This is his first movie, which he disowned, and reportedly tried to destroy. Luckily Eastman House kept a copy of it.

2. The Godfather – haven’t seen it in close to 25 years.

3. Killer’s Kiss – Kubrick’s sophomore movie, luckily included as an extra in Criterion’s The Killing,

4. Ikiru – this is the only one I don’t already own. How the hell this is the case is, frankly, beyond me.

5. The Killing – seems to be acknowledged as the first “real” Kubrick film. Nope, never seen it.

6. Chushingura – The Loyal 47 Ronin

7.  Paths of Glory

8.  Hara-Kiri

9. Spartacus – Literally haven’t seen it in almost 50 years, and then it was on TV.

10. Inception – I know, I know. Sue me.

11. Lolita

12. The Hurt Locker – see number 10, above.

13. Dr. Strangelove – Probably the most recent of the ones I’ve previously viewed, only about 10 years ago.

14. No Country for Old Men – see number 12, above

15. 2001: A Space Odyssey – I seem to recall a more recent viewing, but I can only only definitely recall one 20 years ago, on laserdisc.

16. True Grit – the Coen Brothers version. See number 14, above.

17. A Clockwork Orange – ugly and brutal, I think it’s been more than 20 years.

18. While the City Sleeps – Fritz Lang noir classic. Never seen it.

19. Barry Lyndon  – Never seen it.

20. Godfather II- Again, it’s been 25 years. I also have Godfather III, which I’ve never seen, but have been informed it is so terribly sad-making (and not in a good way) I think I’ll be able put that one off a while longer.

21. The Shining – never actually watched it all the way through. Keep encountering it on TV, but I like to see a) the whole thing; b) from the beginning.

22. The Last King of Scotland

23. Full Metal Jacket – saw it in the theaters in ’87

24. Heavenly Creatures – Please see number 16, above.

25. Eyes Wide Shut – not necessarily looking forward to this one, but a deal’s a deal.

26. Bonnie & Clyde – as a bona fide child of the 60s, how the hell have I avoided seeing this?

27. Black Orpheus

28. Drive – time to find out what all the shouting’s about.

29. Beauty & the Beast – the Cocteau version, dammit.

30. There Will Be Blood – see number 24, above. Looking forward to finally seeing what all this “milkshake” business is about.

In case you were wondering if I had completely lost my mind, there is another list of 30 Questionable movies I intend to see in the coming year. Maybe we’ll do that later. Right now I have work to do, and we’re over a thousand words.

Not to mention resting up for tonight’s show.