I watched Fatal Attraction (1987) starring Michael Douglas and Glenn Close last night on AMC. Many elements of this film have been discussed ad nauseam, i.e. its thinly-veiled anti-feminism and its boiled bunny. I prefer to focus on the pivotal role of Douglas’ dog, a beast transformed into a symbol of domestic ennui after Douglas’ wife (Anne Archer) forces him to walk it late at night. This anonymous canine is the propulsive center of Fatal Attraction without which the film cannot exist. Shockingly, the dog is not even purebred, but a mixed breed.

I saw The Dark Knight starring Christian Bale and Heath Ledger (RIP) in the theater tonight, doing my part to help this movie break opening weekend box office records and supporting the film industry, the economy, and the folks at Guinness Book of World Records in the process. I was prepared to offered detailed analysis of The Dark Knight’s relationship to the War on Terror, but still can’t figure out if director Christopher Nolan really intended Batman to, somehow, represent George Bush.

I rented Joel and Ethan Coen’s Intolerable Cruelty (2003) starring George Clooney and Catherine Zeta-Jones from my local video store last night. Mr. Clooney’s character is introduced at the dentist, where he seems to be having his teeth whitened. Throughout the first half of the film, he repeatedly checks his teeth, a personal tic that marks him as egomaniacal and vainglorious. However, this running joke is abandoned in the second half of the film. Perhaps this was a mistake by the editor. 

I saw M. Night Shyamalan’s The Happening starring Marky Mark Wahlberg and Zooey Deschanel in the theater last night. I pity Mr. Shyamalan. Critics unhappy with this effort will undoubtedly refer to this film as The Crappening.

I saw the Russian film Mongol (2007) starring Tadanobu Asano and Khulan Chuluun in the theater last night. This film recounts Genghis Khan’s rise to power from a minor power broker amongst nomadic tribes in 12th century Mongolia to the redoubtable Asian imperialist still worshipped in the East. In this biopic, Khan resolves to “make Mongolians live under law and order - even if I have to kill half of them to do it.” I have a similar feeling about city-dwellers who insist on claiming parking spots in front of their houses with traffic cones.

I watched an episode of Foyle’s War (2002), a BBC television series starring British actor Michael Kitchen as a police detective, on Netflix DVD last night. Foyle’s War takes place in southern England during World War II, when Churchill’s nation shared the Channel with Nazi-occupied France and Redcoat tempers ran high. Does this sound exciting to you? If so, you are either 1) a fiftysomething white-male war buff/John Milius enthusiast 2) an sixtysomething female fan of Murder, She Wrote or 3) that ironic twentysomething guy at the office who likes to start the unlikeliest of Netflix trends. 

I saw WALL-E yesterday in the theater. I understand that this film was aimed at a younger demographic. As a result, some children were present at the screening. One of these children took of her shoe and waved it around. “Put your shoe back on!” her father warned. The child refused. As a result, the child was removed from WALL-E before WALL-E met EVA, blasted off to the Axiom spaceship, and, unwittingly, helped its inhabitants return to Earth.

I saw Get Smart starring Steve Carell and Anne Hathaway in the theater last night. I had brought my Mickey Mouse ears to the multiplex and was ready for some family-style fun. Unfortunately, Get Smart was quite ribald, including jokes about “freeballing” (a.k.a. wearing boxer shorts), dicks (”That’s not cheese!” quoth Maxwell Smart when a rat climbs into his pants), boobs (Smart touches Agent 99’s), and an anal sex sight gag. After enduring Get Smart’s unbridled filth, I returned home and navigated to burningangel.com to cleanse myself of the experience. 

I watched the first half of The Killing Fields (1984) starring Sam Waterson and Haing S. Ngor on Turner Classic Movies last night. Many of sung this film’s praises, leading me to expect an action-packed tear-jerker a la Schindler’s List (1993) or Saving Private Ryan (1998). Instead, I found the Killing Fields slow-paced, with little English dialogue and an avant-garde soundtrack. I was also surprised at the irascibility of the American journalist portrayed by Mr. Waterson, who treats the Cambodian interpreter portrayed by Mr. Ngor like a lackey even when attempting to save his life. I was not too surprised, however, to fall asleep ninety minutes into the film.

I rented Spartacus (1960) from my local video store last week. I’ve heard this Stanley Kubrick-directed epic is overlong, so I put off watching it until last night when I had planned to play a no-limit Texas hold-em tournament on fulltiltpoker.com during the film. I put Spartacus in my DVD machine and attempted to login to my fulltilt account on my laptop, but, for reasons known only to fulltilt’s customer service department, was denied access. Thus, I was unable to either 1) watch Spartacus or 2) play a $10 + $1 elimination freezeout.