Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Pre-Paid Envelope of Shame

With a heavy heart, I pushed my current three Netflix rentals into the mailbox. You see, I have not watched them. They have sat on my desk for a full month, two of the discs never even having been removed from their protective sleeves. In theory, I would have happily watched any of these films, yet somehow none sparked any interest in me once they actually arrived. "Hey, how about another episode of Twin Peaks?" came so much more easily.

Goodbye, The Fountain. Your association with Darren Aronofsky apparently wasn't enough to help me through the first thirty minutes, whereupon I asked myself "What the fuck is going on?" Then, with you still playing, I took a shower and before I returned and popped out the DVD partway through some emotional delivery by a bald Rachel Weisz. Eventually, I settled on watching Cartoon Network.

Goodbye, The Painted Veil. Though I love Naomi Watts and would probably pay admission price to see her perform in any role, I never felt like allotting the time or emotional energy needed to slog through her trip to the disease-ridden Far East. I blame Edward Norton's infuriating neutral face, which I always read as "Aw shucks" no matter what accent he's speaking in. Oh, and also that I didn't want to catch weird Asian diseases somehow.

Goodbye, Sherrybaby. Though it's an established fact that Maggie Gyllenhaal is good, I don't want to see her lose her heroin baby. Or whatever this movie was about. I'll just assumed the baby comes back to her through a time machine.

I suppose I can tack them onto the bottom of the queue and revisit them in the three years it will take me to watch 276 more movies.

No comments:

Post a Comment