So last night Mike and I watched Almost Famous, the Cameron Crowe movie about the young Rolling Stone writer. I think I’d seen bits and pieces of it before on HBO, but Mike had never seen it and curiously, he had no clue what to expect. He loved it; I thought it was a nice movie, but I’m not raving over it.
I will, however, rave over another movie we rented last weekend, Cemetery Junction, which is a creation by two of the funniest guys on earth, Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant. Unless you’re a big fan, chances are you’ve never heard of it; it probably played at your local art house for about two weeks. I thought it was fantastic; there’s nothing like the Gervais/Merchant humor (check out the BBC version of The Office or Extras, which ran for about 12 episodes on HBO). It also had serious and poignant overtones, and if you’ve read my book, you know I love the blend of poignancy and humor.
Cemetery Junction isn’t for everyone; you have to go for that dry Brit humor and even though they’re speaking English, sometimes I wished for subtitles; it’s a little hard to understand at times. I was reminded of the part in my book where I talk about how Bastard Husband, being from New Zealand, could understand every word of The Osbournes and would have to translate half the show for me. On the other hand, he couldn’t understand a word of Bernie Mac.
Anyway, Cemetery Junction is in Red Box right now; if you like that sort of thing, you’ll love this film.
Okay, this is bordering on TMI, but last night we watched Almost Famous in bed. Mike is quite a talker, but he knows my history of publicly humiliating rude movie patrons so he kept quiet. After the movie, though, he had a lot of pent-up things to get out and God knows why, but he started doing impressions for me to guess.
The first one was a snap—John Wayne. The second one was easy, too—Don Adams from the old Get Smart show. But the third one—I had no idea. He was like, “Come on, I can’t believe you can’t tell who this is.” But I had no freakin’ clue; I couldn’t even venture a guess. Finally, disappointed that I couldn’t appreciate his talents, he revealed the speaker.
Seriously, who remembers what Spiro Agnew sounded like, but more importantly, who the eff does Spiro Agnew impressions in the sack?
That’s a first for me, all right.