In Their Seat
Thursday, the week and the vacation winding toward a finish. Saw The Bourne Identity today at the Grand Lake. Not a bad flick. There are many good reasons to skip your basic "wake up in the middle of an ocean without any memory discovering, as you bumble forward, you're a $30 million government crafted killing machine" movie. Think some of the lesser Jean Claude Van Damme variations. This one is OK. A $30 million government made killing machine, but what, how? You know he's not like you and not like me, but they don't do any Star Trek science scenes explaining how the gizmo's were grafted, they don't really go into any explanation whatsoever, which was refreshing, except for the headaches. They mention the headaches.
Maybe he was trained, no mechanical enhancements. What can you get for $30 million anymore, anyway? Thirty million dollars worth of hand to hand, elbow to larynx and target practice? Language lessons? Trips to Langley? That would give me a headache. Anyway, reasonably understated (for an action movie), there's a car chase, but it's OK, not too long. Bearable. Recommended.
A good day today in the sense it seems to have rolled along unattended, taking me along. I had breakfast downtown near the office (I turned the corner, there was the bus, what the hell, and got on it.), passing the office and being greeted by three fellow workers thinking I'd finished my vacation. No, no - smile! smile! - just here for the breakfast. Took my time reading the paper, wandered on down to the bus stop, took the bus back home. Another walk now near the theater, checked out what was playing, don't really want to see Goldmember, the result of the cranky gene emerging as I grow older. I haven't seen any of them, although I'd probably have a good time, my rule of thumb being after they gross a certain horrendous amount of money there's probably something there for everyone, even me. But later. I'll rent the first one some cold night later and see where it takes me.
Friday. Returned from seeing Signs, the new Mel Gibson movie. I read the Chronicle review this morning and they gave it their lowest rating, the little guy graphic sleeping in his theater seat. Reading the review and having seen the trailer, I thought, well, too bad. The Chronicle called it "bland". It wasn't bland. It was odd, the pacing was as the Chronicle complained, more an interior monologue, a kind of dream rather than an alien invasion story. It didn't work in a lot of ways, but it had me sitting more than once at the edge of my seat - Little Green Men, you understand - it definitely held my interest, whatever the pacing, and the scene with the wife, at least the buildup to the scene with the wife, was wrenching. The little man sleeping in his theater seat really was sleeping. The audience, young, since I went to the 4:30 showing, gave it a short ovation, none of them, as near as I could see, asleep in their seat.