Cornstarch: It's not just for your sweaty crotch anymore!
I see these on the table at Kim and Eric's next party. I see them waiting a long time to bring them out, just to make everyone crazy. Kim and Eric Throw Very Good Parties, by the way. Saturday night was Kim's birthday party and it sure was swell. Unfortunately, the musical phrase "eat the brownie! eat! the! brownie..." comes into my mind, unbidden, at random moments.
Sunday night, Melissa and I watched 1408. Avoid. What made me so mad was that it scraped goodness. Just scraped it. Current thinking is that to make money, a movie must be PG-13, but to have the level of terror this movie needed, it needed to be an R. I'm not talking gore. It just needed to be more psychically grueling. After a certain point, it was more like a gruesome physical challenge on Double Dare than "a fucking evil room." It almost redeemed itself when the phone rang near the end, and the pleasant female voice stated: "You can relive this hour over and over again...or you can use our express check-out service!" Then a noose dropped from the ceiling.
The music was a big problem, too. If you're going for "grim" and "psychological," don't hit me upside the head with a surge of dramatic music stright out of an epic videogame cinematic cutscene. I had the same problem with Elizabeth: The Golden Age. It's not increasing the sense of drama. I'll tell you what the effect is! The effect is, it's alienating me, Bertholt Brecht!