Indulging One's Own Self

Why should a writer who writes a movie that totally shreds such obvious history to satisfy his/her own creative penning of a story bother me? After all, history is nothing but a social construct, right?

I just finished watching Quentin Tarantino's Inglorious Basterds. It had the typical - and expected - Tarantino violence - as well as his quirky, boyish, movie-loving schmaltz, but aside from a few interesting performances - er, well one - that of Christoph Waltz, the total rip of history was something I could not overlook.

Boy, I've been hitting a patch of bad movies lately.

I also saw John Wayne in The Train Robbers. Yikes, he just phoned this performance in, didn't he?

The story was supposed to be centered around some convoluted robbery, but really, it was all about watching the stunning Ann-Margaret put on a pair of tight red jeans. Granted, she looks awesome. It seemed everything and everybody else was just gravy.

Aside from a weirdly placed prairie dog scene, the movie was a cookie-cutout western that dragged on a bit too long. Gosh, I think I have about 140 more John Wayne movies to go. Onward!

Papillon.. Schmapillion...

Holy smokes... I just finished watching Papillon with Dustin Hoffman and the gorgeous Steve McQueen. What a disappointing movie!!!

I found it interesting enough - at least up to the point where McQueen's character gets hit by those arrows. Then, the movie totally loses me when he wakes up at the beach camp with all those half naked women. What the hell??!!

I kept thinking he was dreaming again. I sat there waiting for his character to wake up from that farcical dream and be back in solitary confinement or something, but no - the movie kept getting more and more ridiculous. I might also add that even though the Papillon character kept growing a beard, his hair would NEVER grow an inch. Oy!

Any who, I can at least cross that film off my 'classic' list of movies I haven't seen.

Onward!