Oh, Federico. Still a total bastard, I see. Please to redeem yourself in the next nine episodes. Thanks.
Three episodes of Six Feet Under down, nine to go. Took a break and put on Wimbledon. I don't know why I subject myself to these things. I must really like that Bettany fellow.
The movie is mostly horrendous by film standards but good by cutesy romance standards, with a few redeeming qualities like James McAvoy. [Yum. Leto Atreides.] At least Paul appears to be another one of these Brits who disrobes at the drop of a hat. Those British actors are so selfless. He's naked half the time in A Knight's Tale, I know, but completely uninterestingly so for some reason. It seems he's worked out or something since then, cause: hips, hello. Oh, I am going to enjoy Da Vinci Code, even with the crazy makeup.
And why must he talk like that? I could listen to him read road signs all day with the way he talks like that. If anybody can snap me out of my constant undying Tudyk love [and several have tried and failed], I think it might be Paul Bettany. Huh. Who knew? And he was there all along.
Now, maybe more Six Feet Under, and maybe playing Burnout with Cat, and maybe The Heart Of Me. Bettany, Helena Bonham Carter and Olivia Williams. It has to be better than Wimbledon. It has to be.