Days In Monsterville

I don’t want this to become a movie blog. I go to the movies a lot and, unfortunately, it’s the safest thing I can write about.

Monsterville is a strange and weird place, but I’m not sure how much I should be sharing. Out in the real world, I am horribly secretive, and although it’s easy to read my face and my mood, there’s so much that I don’t tell people. I’m working out what I can—what I should—say on the Internet and what I should leave for me. It’s a process, but more than that, it’s a way of life. Like that guy in the Crash Test Dummies says, my mouth says things that aren’t so wise. So for now, I have to be careful.

Buried. It’s a strange movie, strange and claustrophobic. Ryan Reynolds as a contractor in Iraq gets buried alive inside a coffin. That’s the entire movie, Reynolds in a coffin, with only a phone to give him glimpses of the outside world. The end moments are horrific, and throughout I could feel the walls closing in on me, the sand pouring on my head. Its moments of dread and terror are tangible. I’ve not seen a movie like this in a very long time, maybe not ever.

Something for the ladies...