Less Miserable

The other day while I was obsessively watching all video content available related to the upcoming Les Miserables movie, I came across a comment to the effect of, “I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY MADE IT A MUSICAL.” Which, um, you’re a little late to be indignant about that.

Lest you think me a monster, I could totally understand if, say, you were a fan of the book but hate musicals, and so were disappointed. However, I would probably still think, “Tough luck, suckah!” Because did you know that there have been over 60 straight film adaptations of the book, and exactly zero film adaptations of the musical? Yeah, it’s the musical’s turn.

Granted, those movie adaptations date back to 1897 and I doubt most of them are available in any form. But here’s a snapshot of what’s happened in my lifetime alone (source):

In 1978, there was a UK TV movie starring Anthony Perkins.
In 1980, the French stage musical opened.
In 1982, there was a French dramatic version which was re-released in 1985 for television.
Also in 1985, the English version of the musical opened in London. It opened on Broadway in 1987.
There were various foreign films over the rest of the 1980s and early 90s, including a French television cartoon in 1992.
In 1995, a filmed concert of the Broadway show was released.
In 1998, the Liam Neeson movie.
In 2000, a French mini-series starring Gerard Depardieu, followed by an English TV version of the same.
In 2007, this Japanese animated series happened. I am dying to see it.
In 2010, another concert-style movie.

Unless you count the two filmed concerts (which DO NOT COUNT), there have been at least 13 non-musical adaptations (some of them truer to the novel than others). IT’S ABOUT TIME!

Cautionary Tale


What happens when you find out that everything you knew about your father was a lie, and–oh yeah–the woman you love is your sister?

This happens:



A Better Tag Line for Wrath of the Titans

There are posters all over town for Wrath of the Titans (they’ve been up for so long that I just checked to see if the movie has come and gone–nope, opens tomorrow) and they are bad. BAD.

Here, I will show you.


Look at that tag line: FEEL THE WRATH.

Hollywood, I could poop out a better tag line. Here are a few suggestions (from my brain, not the other place):


Actually, that’s pretty good. I’ll leave it at that. Next time, do better. Or at least call me.

In which the Internet makes me happy.

Over the last three evenings, Will and I have watched the first series of the BBC’s Sherlock.

Here is my history with Sherlock Holmes: I’ve seen Young Sherlock Holmes (which scared me half to death when I was 11 or so), The Seven-Per-Cent Solution, and Hammer’s The Hound of the Baskervilles. I’ve also read a tremendous number of Nero Wolfe mysteries, which are not Sherlock Holmes stories at all, but you can probably imagine how I might be confused.

So we watched Sherlock and I loved it. (Actually, I thought the middle episode was a bit clunky, but I ADORED the first episode and thought the third was very good.) (Furthermore, fuck you England for having three episode seasons, what the fucking hell.)

Here are two interesting things about the show. (Interesting to me.)

1. I imagine lots of ladies find Benedict Cumberbatch’s looks to be a nice added bonus to the series. I am not into him at all, but I seem to have sighed audibly when craggy Inspector Lestrade first appeared. (I am kind of surprised Will hasn’t made fun of me, actually.)

2. (which is really more like 1.5) I looked up who plays Inspector Lestrade. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that it’s Rupert Graves, my biggest teenage crush. My taste in men has done a complete 180 in the last 15 years, and yet.

Here he is in Maurice(be still my beating teenage heart):

And here he is in Sherlock (be still my beating 30-something heart):

It is really remarkable to discover that there is someone who has conformed to my taste over pretty much my entire life.

In other news:


and furthermore:


I love the internets.

Best Wife Award

Ever since I made Will watch Dirty Dancing a few weeks ago (which I started a post about–somebody remind me to finish that) he has been saying that I need to watch Road House. I am totally on board with this plan.

Unrelated to anything Patrick Swayze, Will has also been saying that he wants to do a Predator triple feature (Predator, Predator 2, and Predators). I am also on board with this plan.

We don’t own Road House or Predators, and neither is on Netflix Instant or available to rent/buy from Amazon Streaming.

Amazon just sent out payments for December referrals. (If you’ve clicked on any Amazon links here, and purchased anything once you’re over there, I get a percentage of the sale.) I opted to get Amazon gift cards instead of actual money, which of course means I am taking a loss but I just don’t care because it is FREE MONEY. Or FREE DVDs as the case may be. And is.

I neglected to mention any of this to Will, so he was a little surprised when they arrived today.

I am awesome! Of course, I have also guaranteed that both movies will now be available to watch streaming. YOU’RE WELCOME.

TV catch-up

I didn’t watch much television when my sister lived here, because she lived in our TV room and I’m not a very nice person but I’m nicer than that.

Since she left and we moved the TV down into the main living space, I’ve been making up for lost time. I mean, as much as I can in the evenings after the children go to bed and before I fall asleep. Some nights there’s only a five minute window. Also sometimes I like to just talk to Will. Or have work to do, or don’t feel like watching anything. But anyway.

We discovered that How I Met Your Mother is finally streaming, and started over again from the beginning. A few years ago we watched the first four seasons (borrowing the DVDs from Cassie) and LOVED the show. We are just as fond of it the second go-round, and Sam adores it too. (Just wait till he finds out that Marshall made a movie with the Muppets!)

Will has been watching some hour-longs, like Shameless (Brit version) and Sons of Anarchy and a bunch of other stuff I think sounds neat but just am not up for right now.

This week, I get to watch anything I want. I watched the pilot of Greek the other day and enjoyed it (which is nice since I know the creator/showrunner – and yes, I am only just now watching my friend’s show from like 5 years ago). I will most likely keep going but I want other options as well. Of course, what I really want to watch is season 7 of Gilmore Girls (I’ve never seen it! And am unspoiled! Can you believe it?) but it isn’t available for free anywhere.

Any suggestions for me? I’d say I’m about 8 years behind overall. Please don’t suggest Veronica Mars, Glee, or True Blood. I couldn’t get into the former and HATED the latter two.

Faith, Hope, and Tricked

So I am in bed, watching Buffy season 3 on Hulu even though I’d rather be watching season 2 (the DVDs are upstairs, which I’m sure you understand is too far away) and it occurs to me:

Faith = Eliza Dushku, Canadian.

Scott Hope = Fab Filippo, Canadian

Mr. Trick = K. Todd Freeman, Texan.

I am torn between wishing they’d completed the trifecta and cast a Canadian as Mr. Trick, and loving that they pulled on over on us by casting a Houstonite. GOOD ONE, MUTANT ENEMY.

…These are the things I contemplate when I have a stomach bug that won’t go away.

ETA: I got it wrong! Eliza Dushku is not Canadian at all! I am carrying on a conversation with myself all about it down in the comments.


I thought Van Helsing, which everyone agrees is CRAP, was really funny.

I thought X-Men Origins: Wolverine, which most people agree was pretty bad, was really fun.

HUGH JACKMAN HAS CLEARLY PUT THE WHAMMY ON ME. And he’s not my type at all, so I never saw it coming! And here I thought I was watching his movies because I like the subject matter. VERY SNEAKY, MR. JACKMAN.

Action Movies!

On the rare evening that my sister (who sleeps in the TV room) is working, the children go to bed at a reasonable hour, and Will and I have enough energy to get up the stairs, we’ve been watching Netflix movies. Mostly crappy action movies, which is my favorite genre EVER.

A few weeks ago we watched The Losers, which is basically the perfect movie. Unfortunately, it’s been a few weeks so my memory is already hazy. Just trust me, it was awesome.

The Expendables was a huge disappointment. Boring! Look, my standards for action movies are so low they’re in the basement, and this failed to meet my expectations. It did, however, produce this gem:

me: I think Sly’s had some work done.
Will: I think Sly’s had ALL the work done.

Also, it was really cool when Dolph Lundgren and Jet Li fought. Not only are they both real martial artists, but now that they are both older and craggier, I would totally have sex with either of them. (But not both. What am I, greedy?)

X-Men Origins: Wolverine exceeded expectations! I really enjoyed it! This is so shocking to me (even with my low standards, I expected the movie to make me angry) that I don’t have much else to say about it. Man was the CGI bad in some scenes, though.

Up next is Centurion, which Will already saw and thinks I will enjoy. WE SHALL SEE.


(Just FYI, I’m probably going to spoil the heck out of Miyazaki’s PONYO.)

Remember after Grace was born, when I had a nightmare that we were giving her up for adoption? I blogged it right here. The worst thing in the dream (other than, you know, giving away my baby) was Sam, sobbing in his father’s arms outside because he wanted to keep her.

I both love and hate PONYO. I love it for the same reasons I love all of Miyazaki’s movies (in a word, magic). I hate it because it makes me cry. And not just cry in the way that one cries when something is sad, but cry because I feel like I have been punched in the sternum.

It’s the scene when Sōsuke loses Ponyo and runs into the ocean calling for her, crying, and his mother runs after him to keep him from going into the ocean forever. I feel broken every time I watch it. It doesn’t help that Sam gets agitated by it, too.

Because in that scene, Sōsuke is Sam, and Ponyo is Grace, and my heart is on the outside of my body in two pieces, one for each of my children.