she runs from the third world

[teethlikedog]

Went to see Hot Fuzz again last night, because yes, it is just that damn good. On the second viewing, I've decided I definitely prefer it to Shaun Of The Dead, not necessarily because it's a better made film (though it probably is, to be honest) but because of the genre it's set in. Because, while they're both comedies, they are also both loving pastiches of - almost homages to - the genres they represent; in Shaun's case, zombie flicks, and in Fuzz's, action/buddy-cop movies. And while I love both genres (as, quite obviously, do Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright), the confines of the genre give Fuzz certain advantages in terms of expanded supporting cast (who do more than groan and shuffle) and dynamic action sequences (zombies are vicious, but not exactly fast and furious) and, y'know, explosions and stuff. Also, Fuzz has the wonderfully deliberate homoeroticism that's such a feature of buddy-cop films, enough that a certain scene elicited nervous giggles from members of the audience both times I saw it (giggles of the "oh my god they're not really going to go there, are they?" variety). If Nick Frost was zomg hawt, I have no doubt that there'd be reams of slash written for the film; as it is, it'll probably be a lot thinner on the ground (because unattractive features can be excused for the sake of porn, but being overweight is a mortal sin). I'm having the urge to write some myself, though the fact that the slashiness is deliberate makes me slightly uncomfortable about doing so (me writing homoerotic fiction about their deliberate homoeroticism, which is poking gentle fun at the unintentional homoeroticism of many buddy-cop films; is that a meta level too far?) as does the utter innocence of the relationship as depicted on screen. It's the same reason I could never write hobbit-slash: I can see the gay, but it's all so very innocent and naive and comradely that I can't make it be anything else. Ah well, if I do manage to perpetrate Hot Fuzz slash, my flist will undoubtedly be the first to know.

This afternoon I did a thorough clean of the apartment, and it's now looking rather better. There's something quite satisfying about giving the place a really good clean, and I find scrubbing ridiculously hard with wire wool is oddly cathartic. If the PhD doesn't work out, perhaps I should consider a career as a cleaning lady?