Crash

Watched 'Crash' on DVD yesterday. I''d seen it in the theatre, but Jude hadn't and so we ploughed our way through just under two hours of inhumanity, despair and general teeth grinding. It's all very well done of course, even Sandra Bullock manages to avoid any obvious pratfalls (didn't YOU expect her to play her fall down stairs for a cheap physical laugh?) but the whole thing ended up leaving me cold.

In fact my one take away thought was that the puppets of Avenue Q managed to get across pretty much the same message, in a fraction of the time and a much more entertaining way with their song 'Everyone's a little bit racist'

Maybe I am horribly shallow. Maybe I'm sociopathic. But I just can't find it in my heart to feel very much during movies that ought to be affecting. Brokeback Mountain, ho-hum. Love Story, whatever. Titanic, is it over yet?

Of course when they turn this Blog into a major motion picture Dakota will capture all of this - capturing both my Mercahnt-Ivory British reserve and madame Tussards like waxiness.

Ok, ok... cancer.

When my doctor first told me I had cancer I wanted to ask (regarding survival chances) - is it worth my starting to watch the new season of American Idol (the season lasts about 4 months)... I didn't ask but January is here and I am watching, almost despite myself.

Of course Idol has nothing on TV's best show 'Project Runway' - in which fashion designers compete in various challenges, one being eliminated each week. To date this season has brought us the classic lines

"Where the HELL is my chiffon?"

and

"Oh my God, it's a mother-f*king walk-off"

Last night the task was to make runway ready dresses using $100 worth of flowers. The remaining contestants (four gay men, one of whom is about 7 ft tall and balding fast, a chinese midget and a South African bird with no fashion sense and a surplus of testosterone) sewed up a frenzy before sending some very uncomfortable models down the runway. Michael Kors managed to comment

'It looks like the kind of dress that the town slut would wear to prom, if her mother was a bad home sew-er"

Ah, it's good to be alive.