Short heroes are buried by leather clothes.
An action sequence kidnaps a Spaniard.
Craters yawn in her elevator hose.
Carelessly dropped hot dogs ignite mustard.
I found myself listening to the Planet Terror soundtrack a lot yesterday. Really great soundtrack, I can see myself listening to it while drawing action sequences, though Rose McGowan's singing isn't nearly as good as her line deliveries. Her singing's a bit over the top, she sounds like a drunk teenager doing karaoke, especially since her version of "You Belong to Me" sounds like a low rent take on the Tori Amos version. But McGowan's pole dance at the beginning of the movie absolves her of all crimes, in my book.
Though I guess compared to some of the acrobatics strippers seem to be doing nowadays, that's not so impressive. It's the editing and music I think that really make that sequence.
I finished watching "The Romans" serial of Doctor Who's second season, and it's by far my favourite serial so far. I'm very glad they've finally stopped having every serial begin with the Tardis getting blocked behind rubble or a force field or something, and this one had a nice, organic mix of tension and comedy, even if the Caesar Nero in the episode was leaning pretty heavily on the standard Nero portrayal, even going to the obligatory burning of Rome. No Nero's ever going to hold a candle to Charles Laughton's or Peter Ustinov's.
But the relationship between the Doctor and Vicki is so effortlessly perfect. It's almost like what I'd imagine the relationship between Lewis Carroll and Alice Liddell might have been like. I'm getting impatient for Ian and Barbara to leave, though Barbara's certainly improved quite a bit from the passive creature she was early in the first season.
I wonder what the first Doctor would make of the iPad. I walked past an Apple store yesterday and the place was packed with people looking for the iPad. What a wondrous thing is capitalism, when folks can blow money on a useless piece of technology while leaking oil is destroying the gulf coast. I've gotten to thinking how a lot of people with paying jobs seem to have a lot more free time than I do. I couldn't help feeling like this whole world's lost in some kind of dream.
RIP, Dennis Hopper.