Hey. Distinguished film critic Dave Kehr has likes some Paul W.S. Anderson films. I definitely like Dave Kehr. Women should get to kill things too, I always say. Plus, games. I keep catching a couple of my kids playing them. (I am proud of that moment of paternal triumph when I jettisoned that child-sucking Tony Hawk game that came with that long ago computer into the void. They’re still talking about that one, in a way that I believe is at the core admiring, and appreciative.) Can I call myself a film teacher, these days, without giving this kind of film a serious, trying-to-be-sympathetic whirl?
Well, I tried. And I failed. I should be honourable, and professional, and calmly discuss some of the things I saw, and why they make me feel this way. But is that the end of my life I hear, coming inexorably closer and closer? This experience is going to have an impact on how long I remain cogent as I get older, isn’t it?