I’d forgotten how complicated this move was. Kiss of the Spider Woman came out in 1985, when I was at the height of my grad school movie going days, but I certainly didn’t see it more than twice. I should read the novel. Good stuff. Flashbacks, movies in movies, dream sequences – and a pretty surprising ending.
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Buffy, holding a gun to an officer’s head: Stay back, or I’ll pull William Burroughs on your leader here.
Xander: You’ll bore him to death with free prose?
Soldiers all look clueless.
Buffy: Was I the only one awake in English that day? [sounding out every syllable] I’ll kill him.
Cain: First they tell me I can’t hunt an elephant for its ivory. Now I have to deal with People for the Ethical Treatment of Werewolves.
Season one, episode 12:
The Master: You’re dead.
Buffy: I may be dead, but I’m still pretty.
The Master: You were destined to die! It was written!
Buffy: What can I say? I flunked the written.
Snappy snappy.
Oh noes!
GILES: That’s the thrill of living on the Hellmouth – there’s a veritable cornucopia of fiends and devils and ghouls to engage
Pardon me for finding the glass half-full.
Watson: Oh, please, can we not do this this time?
Holmes: Do what?
Watson: You, being all mysterious with your cheekbones and turning up your coat collar up so you look cool.
Holmes: I don’t do that.
Watson: Yeah you do!
Ok – AppleTV has brought me a good number of surprises so far. But tonight, a showery night with rain sounds outside, my “recommended for you” queue pulled up Brideshead Revisited. That music!
He told me and, on the instant, it was as though someone had switched off the wireless, and a voice that had been bawling in my ears, incessantly, fatuously, for days beyond number, had been suddenly cut short; an immense silence followed, empty at first, but gradually, as my outraged sense regained authority, full of a multitude of sweet and natural and long forgotten sounds: for he had spoken a name which was so familiar to me, a conjuror’s name of such ancient power, that, at its mere sound, the phantom of those haunted late years began to take flight.
I’ve been teaching the Church of the Holy Sepulcher this week in Early Medieval Art and Architecture, without ever explaining that I love Helena more than Krautheimer, even if Krautheimer is the background I teach out of.
I need to read the novel again before I start typing out quotations. “The women are still doing what they do before they come downstairs. Sloth has undone them – we’re away.”
Jerry Orbach played a defense attorney in the 2nd episode of season 2!
So I bought Apple TV and among my indulgences is going through Law and Order in chronological order.
S. Epatha Merkerson makes her first appearance in episode 17 of season one – “Mushrooms.” She’s not Lieutenant Anita Van Buren, but the hardworking mother of children killed in a minor-on-minor killing in service of – get this – an illiterate kid misreading the street address.
. . . six years past his own self-advertised sell-by date. Born, 1942. 64 in 2006. Now 70.
I watched Avatar for the first time last night. Cool effects. Stupid movie. Stupidest part? Unobtanium. James Cameron goes to the trouble of inventing a language with a 1,000 word vocabulary for his Big Blue Bipeds but he didn’t bother to come up with a better fake mineral to be stripped from their planet than Unobtanium?
Until then, things like this will have to do.