After allowing six years for the hype to die down, I finally saw Croupier and enjoyed its slick slice of gambling life. The writing was clever, the art direction stylish (except for the occasional misguided appearances of "The Duran Duran Hat"). Clive Owen performed hunkily, although it would hard to top his smolderingness in Gosford Park (seeing how he was the only thing that kept me awake through that movie). In some ways the mood of Croupier brought to mind the chilly, amoral slickness of demonlover, although I much preferred the former.
Thinking of Gosford Park reminds me that it, with its talcum-powdered tedium, was one of two arthouse films that I got my more mainstream movie-watching sister to attend. The other was the bracing, but tw-is-ted Japanese film Audition. Let's just say it's been awhile since she's let me pick a flick.
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So Britney's pregnant. That pretty much answers my Halloween costume question for this year.
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