Haiku Thursday: The Odd Couple
Oscar and Felix,
meet priest Richard Gere and his
singing “buddy,” Gene.
Do you ever get that feeling where you look at your Netflix queue and wonder whether drunken elves took over your computer and shuffled everything around? We at CHHQ freely admit that our to-see list is fairly narrow: we’re all about the comedies, the romances, the comic romances, and the occasional documentary thrown in just for that extra touch of spice. We like dramas fine; it’s just that we sort of lack the initiative to watch them without someone else prodding us into it. So how is it that I currently have Primal Fear and An American in Paris staring each other down next to the DVD player? These are movies that don’t even speak the same language. They have different turf, and things get strange when they pass on the street. I’m keeping my eyes open for a red-envelope brawl, though I’m pretty sure I know which one’s going to be doing the “When you’re a Jet you’re a Jet” act.
It’s not exactly that I don’t want to watch Primal Fear. I do. My friend Sarah recommended it, and Sarah is my East-coast doppelganger, a person with whom I share a parallel life (if you can ignore the time difference). Sarah knows what I like, because it tends to be what she likes. So I know that, because of Sarah’s good faith and because of Edward Norton, it’s going to be a winner. But who can devote a brilliant summer day, or even a precious long evening, to priests and murder, or whatever it is? Maybe it’s the wrong time of year. I’m just thinking that I’m really more in the mood for Gene Kelly singing, and that I will probably always be more in the mood for Gene Kelly singing than I will for anything Richard Gere, ever. I’ll get there. It’s just going to take a little convincing.
Anyway, I’m going to go. I think I hear snapping.
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