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self-denial
Friday, 4 March 2005 02:17 pmThis morning I stayed at home and updated chapters instead of fleeing to Cavendish to luxuriate in the aircon of their movie theatres while watching Alfie. I feel all noble. I have just sent off three fat, extensively-remodelled chapters to my long-suffering editor, plus a bit of another one which burbles at length about Tepper, which I hope he'll allow me to add back to the book. Shall watch Alfie next week instead. Self-denial all very well, but there are limits. Also, today being 34 degrees hot, probably a good day not to leave the house at all on any pretext.
Dragged the Evil Landlord off to see Elektra last night, on the grounds that it was probably marginally better than him sitting at home playing computer games. In the event, yes, but only marginally. That was Not A Good Film. On the other hand, it wasn't as bad as I was expecting, especially after a happy half-hour reading bits of reviews on Rotten Tomatoes. While the heroine's fetish-gear construction was even more revealing and adolescent-male-fantasy than usual, there were actually some bits of superhero cool, mostly in the bad guys, who had Attitude in spades. I think the film's major problem was profound personality disorder, in that it couldn't decide whether it wanted to be angsty psychological-driven or action-driven. With the result that the angsty bits were cliched and perfunctory and obvious, and the action scenes were unimaginative and perfunctory and obvious. As were the special effects, come to think of it. And the divided self led to profound pacing problems. But it was so obviously a not-good film that it, in fact, annoyed me less than Invincibles did. I felt Invincibles could have been so much more, whereas Elektra clearly couldn't. Oh, and nice scenery. I talk about landscape here, she says with dignity, not the heroine's bustline.
I am carefully, and with considerable self-sacrifice, saving up Finding Neverland to watch with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
starmadeshadow when she gets back. Hear that, O distant one?? Greater friendship can have no woman than that she defers Johnny Depp in an Oscar-nominated performance. Let that be a small, warm glow to light your last audition. Hey! *has sudden idea* There being nothing on TV this evening (something of an inevitability), I shall break out my Pirates of the Caribbean DVD. Heh.
The second-years woke up and evinced interest and personality yesterday. Quite a nice little discursive gallop over the scary tracts of romance, mostly modern for purposes of comparison. I have the kind of job where spending 20 minutes talking about Mills & Boon qualifies as work. Terrifying thought. I fear Middle English may clam them up again, though.
Am half-way through King Rat, for those of you who asked. Current impressions: it's a singularly grubby book, I suppose inevitably. Interesting to see how Mieville's style has developed, this is much less accomplished than Perdido Street Station, in fact a bit mechanistic in places - lots of detailed London descriptions that don't seem to serve much purpose. Enjoying the Pied Piper references, though. Final judgement withheld until I've finished it, preferably not while eating anything.
Dragged the Evil Landlord off to see Elektra last night, on the grounds that it was probably marginally better than him sitting at home playing computer games. In the event, yes, but only marginally. That was Not A Good Film. On the other hand, it wasn't as bad as I was expecting, especially after a happy half-hour reading bits of reviews on Rotten Tomatoes. While the heroine's fetish-gear construction was even more revealing and adolescent-male-fantasy than usual, there were actually some bits of superhero cool, mostly in the bad guys, who had Attitude in spades. I think the film's major problem was profound personality disorder, in that it couldn't decide whether it wanted to be angsty psychological-driven or action-driven. With the result that the angsty bits were cliched and perfunctory and obvious, and the action scenes were unimaginative and perfunctory and obvious. As were the special effects, come to think of it. And the divided self led to profound pacing problems. But it was so obviously a not-good film that it, in fact, annoyed me less than Invincibles did. I felt Invincibles could have been so much more, whereas Elektra clearly couldn't. Oh, and nice scenery. I talk about landscape here, she says with dignity, not the heroine's bustline.
I am carefully, and with considerable self-sacrifice, saving up Finding Neverland to watch with
starmadeshadow when she gets back. Hear that, O distant one?? Greater friendship can have no woman than that she defers Johnny Depp in an Oscar-nominated performance. Let that be a small, warm glow to light your last audition. Hey! *has sudden idea* There being nothing on TV this evening (something of an inevitability), I shall break out my Pirates of the Caribbean DVD. Heh. The second-years woke up and evinced interest and personality yesterday. Quite a nice little discursive gallop over the scary tracts of romance, mostly modern for purposes of comparison. I have the kind of job where spending 20 minutes talking about Mills & Boon qualifies as work. Terrifying thought. I fear Middle English may clam them up again, though.
Am half-way through King Rat, for those of you who asked. Current impressions: it's a singularly grubby book, I suppose inevitably. Interesting to see how Mieville's style has developed, this is much less accomplished than Perdido Street Station, in fact a bit mechanistic in places - lots of detailed London descriptions that don't seem to serve much purpose. Enjoying the Pied Piper references, though. Final judgement withheld until I've finished it, preferably not while eating anything.
