Kivrin

Link has spoilers - http://themagazine.millarworld.tv/index.php/?p=205

The cast of Firefly/Serenity played Catchphrase on the bus on the way out to the location on their first day of shooting the movie. I find that so very endearing.

Now, can anyone give me the straight dope on which actors are signed to a three-picture deal and which aren't?

My brain is playing the showtunes station today - scraps of Phantom of the Opera while I got dressed, now Man of La Mancha. Maybe it's the memory of Slammerkin that's making "...a strumpet men use and forget" echo in my mind.

I'm wearing most of my Zoe costume now, so I can go straight along to after work to meet up with greyhoundliz and jimmi_obadger for the 7:10 show of Serenity. I have on a dark blue denim shirt very much like the one Zoe wears at the beginning of "Our Mrs Reynolds" and dark brown cordoroy pants of what seems to me an appropriately Zoe-ish shape, and practical brown ankle boots(not to be confused with the dressy brown ankle boots which last winter were giving me corns and may need to be entirely retired.) Later I'll tuck my shirt in, put on a wide belt, a ribbon necklace, and an I-could-kill-you-with-my-pinkie attitude. (Liz and/or Jimmi - I have the makings of a necklace thing for Liz, too.) My hair looks acceptable, which I will count as a win, since whenever Product comes into the picture, there's always at least a fifty percent chance of tangled, crunchy disaster. (I am perhaps the definition of 'low femme' - I am interested in Doing Things with my hair but don't care enough to practice enough that I have more than even odds of succeeding with any styling effort other than the brush-and-insert-barettes or the french-braid updo.)

Brief announcement - I'm moving in two weeks, due to landing my first professional job. The rejoicing is outstripping the logistical anxiety, but the logistical anxiety is intermittently acute. I shall be co-metropolitan with grehoundliz and vastly closer to my glimmergirl. By which I mean, in Philadelphia.

In other news, I've started watching Firefly. ( Read more... )

The last time I was at glimmergirl's, though, we watched "Serenity," and while I'm not hooked I am intrigued, to the point of *cough* tracking down *cough* a few episodes online. The show strikes a decent balance between believeably dusty and oh-please-shoot-me gritty, the organizational structure of the ship's crew is pleasantly closer to Robin Hood's band than the Starfleet hierarchy, and in a truly radical step the established couple is actually married. And Joss is writing the dialog, so it's all quite watchable.

I'm still bitter about the Buffyverse, though.

I've been re-watching my way through my video library over the last few months, first as post-comps relaxation and now as an accompaniment to packing. Shakespeare in Love still doesn't contain any acting that exceeds what Cate Blanchett's baby toe does on an off day, but it's a highly enjoyable, merrily anachronistic romp all the same. One of the things that makes SiL work as well as it does is the fact that the anachronisms are all surface ones used for comic effect. Thus, water-taximen accost Shakespeare with scripts and waiters in the local tavern recite specials involving gooseberry coulis, but major truisms about social conventions and the social role of women are maintained. Will can't divorce his wife; Viola has to marry Lord Colin Firth.

Watching SiL also provided a good setup for a line on the commentary track of Love Actually, in which someone says "Oh, I like the musical theme here," and someone else replies "Yes, I like it almost as well as the first time I heard it in Shakespeare in Love."

Other recent viewing includes Best in Show, The Winslow Boy, and Gosford Park. For some reason my Liam Neeson collection isn't calling out to me, perhaps because enormous swaths of al the films I have are really depressing. K-19, radiation peril in the deep (though perhaps it would inspire me to make some progress on the Alexi/Misha slash I started a couple years ago), Michael Collins, Irish politics, 'nuff said, Lamb is so visually depressing it almost doesn't need the plot to send me in search of several stiff rum and cokes, and Rob Roy is a long slow slide into disaster that only turns around at the last minute. Gun Shy should be tolerable, though. Perhaps I'll watch that tonight.