A Contrast of awards programs. The Baftas honored Mel Brooks for his body of work; Simon Pegg’s and Nathan Lane’s presentation was full of humor. I didn’t see the program, but read about it. Even funnier was Brooks’ acceptance and apology for the American Revolution (“we were young). The Brits share my love of Mel.
I’m not going to delve into the nonsense of the American awards programs this year with their hatred and anti-Trump rants. I do still idly wonder if Ashton Kutcher didn’t break a few ribs when he pounded himself about “his America.” But I honestly can’t let Ms. Streep get a pass. To her recent predictions of the soon to be coming nuclear winter, to her singing a cappella at the Human Rights whatever, the Emma Lazarus’s words carved on the Statue of Liberty, I have one thing to say: the woman is embarrassing herself. And it’s getting painful to watch her.
Yesterday I watched the tape of, “A Hard Day’s Night,” with the Beatles. What a fine movie! Always loved it, enjoyed it last night. I saw their teasing and bantering, and while it was a script, the writer Alun Owen spent days with them and captured their characters exactly. I remember when people could tease and act that way, now we have to walk on eggshells. I loved their youth and energy, the humor, they were all naturals for the screen. Glad I watched it.
And, surprise, an admission. I am not a Tom Cruise fan. But I have enjoyed the Mission:Impossible movies. Watched, MI: Rogue Nation yesterday afternoon and this is the best one of all. I love Simon Pegg and Jeremy Renner. Well, to lunch.