My friend Paul likes to say that I’m too narrow in my movie choices, that I stick too closely to my usual stuff. What this really means is that I’m not usually willing to sit through the English drawing room comedies and 14-part miniseries about French royalty that he seems to favor. So the other night he was in charge of renting a movie and bringing it back to my place, where I have a decent TV. He brought several movies, but the one he really wanted to see was called “Kind Hearts and Coronets,” starring a very young Alec Guinness.
I think you’re beginning to see where this story is going.
As the black-and-white credits of this movie started unspooling, with photos of the cast surrounded with cameos trimmed in lace, I unfortunately audibly groaned. It was a small groan, but not silent. I soon found out that the film was unfortunately misfiled in the “Comedy” section of the video store. But I sat through it, and I’m glad I did – it gave me enough movie ammunition for several months. Now when I want him to watch something produced in the modern era, he’ll be less able to fight with me about it.
I love it when I’m right.
You had a movie party and didn’t invite me you sack of poop? My Mr. Mom ass is just sitting around the house.