There’s a Hitchcock extravaganza going on at that Comcast on Demand Free Movies section, and I’ve been spending some hardcore time with Alfred and crew revisiting the classics. Needless to say, I’ve got some comments.
First of all, why do people in old timey movies speak with a bizarre affectation? Think Wizard of Oz style. “Oh, Darathy! Whea ah we? I’m so frahtened.”
What? Where are you from? What is that?
That being said, after watching Rear Window, Mikey and I wandered around all day saying, “How could any of ya be so low and hurt a poor, innocent puppy? Neighbas ah s’posed ta be kahnd to each otha!”
As a child, seeing Grace Kelly’s entrance in Rear Window pretty much defined my sartorial esthetic for life. That Edith Head and her 57 Oscars knew her shit. Even Mikey was marveling at the ensembles, although he much preferred the silk celadon suit to my favorite, the black and white organza gown.
I know what you’re thinking. And, yes. I am turning him gay.
I also spent a glamorous Friday night watching Psycho by myself. Having never seen it, I quite frankly had nothing better to do. Call me a fag-hag but that Anthony Perkins is noticeably spectacular. His performance is flawless and wonderfully creepy, especially when he wanders around in drag preserving his mother’s body and has psychotic, shifty-eyed inner monologue in an insane asylum. I actually applauded, I was so impressed and delighted.
I think The Man Who Knew Too Much is next on my list, as any sit down with Alfred is always entertaining. Oddly, unless it’s on Bravo or having to do with forensics, I’m bored by television these days and am digging through old VHS tapes looking for something more interesting than, say, The Real World 92: Lodi.
That’s how I stumbled upon The Game, staring my close, personal friend, Sean and featuring Michael Douglas doing what he does best, playing an uptight, uber-rich, asshole businessman. He’s really got that down. Wall Street, A Perfect Murder, Fatal Attraction, Traffic…and The Game. M.Doug needs to broaden his horizons. If only Hitchcock were still around to cast him, creating masterpieces and pimping out that weirdo accent…