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Today was a day of sweet, sweet fuck-all. I added time to our WWE Network account so we could watch burly men in tights pretending to be badasses if we so desired and wrote my daily bit of the Great American Fanfic That No One Will Read, but besides that, nada. I lazed around and watched The Vatican Tapes, an episode of Rizzoli and Isles, and an episode of The Case That Haunts Me.
If your standards are not high, The Vatican Tapes is good for background noise while you dust or read. It's your bog-standard possession flick, with lots of contortions and grunting, hapless family members in denial until the third act, and devout priests squaring up with the devil, but in an age of crappy found-footage movies shat out by every pretentious douche with a minor in film studies, I'll give them credit for having an actual plot and committing to it. That it's a cliched plot is balanced by good production values and the unassailable fact that Djimon Honsou and Michael Pena are smoking hot in clerical collars. And hey, the story might've been stupid, but by God, they rolled with it to the end, and I salute that and them.
Tomorrow is another day of glorious nothing and lazy schlock-watching, and then comes Monday and the promise of thunderstorms, so we'll likely go out. To the movies finally, maybe. The hype and hysteria surrounding The Joker will likely have subsided, and there is still Abominable, the sweet kiddie movie about a lonely yeti who just wants to go home.
If your standards are not high, The Vatican Tapes is good for background noise while you dust or read. It's your bog-standard possession flick, with lots of contortions and grunting, hapless family members in denial until the third act, and devout priests squaring up with the devil, but in an age of crappy found-footage movies shat out by every pretentious douche with a minor in film studies, I'll give them credit for having an actual plot and committing to it. That it's a cliched plot is balanced by good production values and the unassailable fact that Djimon Honsou and Michael Pena are smoking hot in clerical collars. And hey, the story might've been stupid, but by God, they rolled with it to the end, and I salute that and them.
Tomorrow is another day of glorious nothing and lazy schlock-watching, and then comes Monday and the promise of thunderstorms, so we'll likely go out. To the movies finally, maybe. The hype and hysteria surrounding The Joker will likely have subsided, and there is still Abominable, the sweet kiddie movie about a lonely yeti who just wants to go home.
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