Troy.


I dash off now to catch Troy with Su-Lin.

I'm back from watching Van Helsing instead.
(This reminds me of C.S. Lewis' analogy of how God manages to so many things all at once. Between the writing of the first and second line, I watched a whole movie; fell prey to a sale in a VCD shop; had dinner; had cake; met Tjan; pressed out of Su-Lin an invitation to go watch Will & Grace she downloaded; came home. But for those persons whose entire lives are lived in my words; whose space and time are the space and time of my blog: for them I seemed to have done all those things, numinously, in the blink between two sentences.)
Hugh Jackman is always very acceptable. He is perfect because he is rough-hewn; he's perfect like Heathcliff is perfect, I think: elemental, umbral, dank with pheromones.
Kate Beckinsale was also credible, because she was not colourless as is her wont. She was high-breasted and ebullient, and did great things with her hair. Her best feature was however her brother, who became a Werewolf.
And my dears, it was brilliant writing!
Dracula's Bride #3: Your blood is going to keep me young forever! Now what do you think of that?
Kate Beckinsale stabs her in the heart: I think if you're going to kill me, kill me, don't stand around talking about it.
Bride screams herself to ashes.

Again:
Reluctant Werewolf: I will rather die than do your foul bidding!
Dracula: Don't be boring. When people say that they always do.
Reluctant Werewolf exiting dragged by vampiric minions: Never never never never never!

When I'm growed up, I want to make films like that!