"He had his chance. And in the modern parlance—blew it." For a Christian copper, there's a particular terror in that.
Yes--and that statement was backed up by everything he'd already seen so far, so he couldn't pass off Summerisle as some kind of misfit.
I was already impressed with Edward Woodward for Breaker Morant, but this really cinched it. Why was he not better known?
I don't know--I'd never heard of him before The Wicker Man, but just yesterday I encountered his name in this article about a new Sherlock Holmes movie (http://www.darkhorizons.com/news07/070316d.php). The article lists other people who've played Holmes, Woodward apparently among them.
Er. eBay? I'm so sorry.
It's okay--it all ended well, as far as I'm concerned. There are stores around here that buy DVDs, too.
Damn. I never find two-disc anything for fifteen dollars. What gods do you sacrifice to?
The gods of olfactory--there's a place in San Diego called Fry's that's basically a huge, smelly warehouse of electronics, DVDs, music, candy, video games . . . It's kind of an office nerd's paradise and, since Tower closed, it's got the best DVD selection in town. They even have an isolated section for Criterion DVDs, and it's the cheapest place to get them.
What did you think of it?
I haven't watched Young Sherlock Holmes yet, but I will as soon as I've finished here. I almost never like Chris Columbus, but I must see every Sherlock Holmes thing I can get my hands on. Plus, Berry Levinson's not so bad. Though I have no intention of seeing Man of the Year.
I repeat! Why does this never happen to me?
Because the gods see your life is already rich with the clean wholesomeness of nature, and the love of family and friends.
Last night apparently I stalked scanner_darkly.
Heh. It's too bad you were born too late to be Hitchcock's screenwriter.
What happened fifteen minutes in?
Oh, nothing in particular--it wasn't exactly the fifteen minute point. I think the feeling had been growing for some time already and I suddenly put it together to think, "Rowan was bait. Howie's doomed."
I read in first grade that described how a young man would live for a year as the human incarnation of the god Tezcatlipoca, the Smoking Mirror, playing his flute, with beautiful girls as his constant companions, until on the last day of his life he would come to the appropriate pyramid, climb the steps alone, break his flute, and be sacrificed: whereupon the next Tezcatlipoca would be chosen for the upcoming year.
That actually doesn't sound so bad.
It struck me after I made that comparison that The Wicker Man might be the first horror film I've seen where sexuality is not punished: instead, it's the hero's virginity that does for him.
That's true. I can't think of another example off the top of my head but, then again, horror is the movie genre with which I have the least amount of experience.
I wasn't surprised he went that far: he's human, and she's sex incarnate, and he's been rapping his libido sternly over the knuckles with a Bible for years.
I guess. Maybe it's hard for me to understand because I've never met sex incarnate and I've never gone through a period of rapping my libido over the knuckles regularly. I was mainly drawing from my own experience of more easily resisting what seemed to me much stronger temptations.
And I think it's important for the story that his reaction to Summerisle is not only outrage, but temptation.
True. He needed to at least have intercourse with the themes.
I like the open-endedness, particularly since our viewpoint for the entire film has been Sergeant Howie: it would make less sense if we were to see a whole epilogue after him. But there's no way not to wonder what happened with the harvest.
Actually I'd say that pretty accurately describes how I felt--I do think it's where the story ought to have ended, since it was essentially all from Howie's point of view. But I wouldn't have been opposed to a sequel.
no subject
Yes--and that statement was backed up by everything he'd already seen so far, so he couldn't pass off Summerisle as some kind of misfit.
I was already impressed with Edward Woodward for Breaker Morant, but this really cinched it. Why was he not better known?
I don't know--I'd never heard of him before The Wicker Man, but just yesterday I encountered his name in this article about a new Sherlock Holmes movie (http://www.darkhorizons.com/news07/070316d.php). The article lists other people who've played Holmes, Woodward apparently among them.
Er. eBay? I'm so sorry.
It's okay--it all ended well, as far as I'm concerned. There are stores around here that buy DVDs, too.
Damn. I never find two-disc anything for fifteen dollars. What gods do you sacrifice to?
The gods of olfactory--there's a place in San Diego called Fry's that's basically a huge, smelly warehouse of electronics, DVDs, music, candy, video games . . . It's kind of an office nerd's paradise and, since Tower closed, it's got the best DVD selection in town. They even have an isolated section for Criterion DVDs, and it's the cheapest place to get them.
What did you think of it?
I haven't watched Young Sherlock Holmes yet, but I will as soon as I've finished here. I almost never like Chris Columbus, but I must see every Sherlock Holmes thing I can get my hands on. Plus, Berry Levinson's not so bad. Though I have no intention of seeing Man of the Year.
I repeat! Why does this never happen to me?
Because the gods see your life is already rich with the clean wholesomeness of nature, and the love of family and friends.
Last night apparently I stalked scanner_darkly.
Heh. It's too bad you were born too late to be Hitchcock's screenwriter.
What happened fifteen minutes in?
Oh, nothing in particular--it wasn't exactly the fifteen minute point. I think the feeling had been growing for some time already and I suddenly put it together to think, "Rowan was bait. Howie's doomed."
I read in first grade that described how a young man would live for a year as the human incarnation of the god Tezcatlipoca, the Smoking Mirror, playing his flute, with beautiful girls as his constant companions, until on the last day of his life he would come to the appropriate pyramid, climb the steps alone, break his flute, and be sacrificed: whereupon the next Tezcatlipoca would be chosen for the upcoming year.
That actually doesn't sound so bad.
It struck me after I made that comparison that The Wicker Man might be the first horror film I've seen where sexuality is not punished: instead, it's the hero's virginity that does for him.
That's true. I can't think of another example off the top of my head but, then again, horror is the movie genre with which I have the least amount of experience.
I wasn't surprised he went that far: he's human, and she's sex incarnate, and he's been rapping his libido sternly over the knuckles with a Bible for years.
I guess. Maybe it's hard for me to understand because I've never met sex incarnate and I've never gone through a period of rapping my libido over the knuckles regularly. I was mainly drawing from my own experience of more easily resisting what seemed to me much stronger temptations.
And I think it's important for the story that his reaction to Summerisle is not only outrage, but temptation.
True. He needed to at least have intercourse with the themes.
I like the open-endedness, particularly since our viewpoint for the entire film has been Sergeant Howie: it would make less sense if we were to see a whole epilogue after him. But there's no way not to wonder what happened with the harvest.
Actually I'd say that pretty accurately describes how I felt--I do think it's where the story ought to have ended, since it was essentially all from Howie's point of view. But I wouldn't have been opposed to a sequel.