I wish those who still smirk at the notion of global warming could've been in my apartment this weekend. Not because I like to play hostess to those who bury their heads in the sand about inconvenient truths, but because my apartment was so freaking hot--despite the fact that I live within 15 miles of the Pacific Ocean--that I was on the verge of eating polar bears.
In an attempt to restore a non-feverish body temperature, I escaped to the cinema and saw the Spanish farce Only Human. I had read great things about it, but it was only so-so. Ever since seeing Almodovar's Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown in a musty, old, beach theater, my standards for what makes a successful farce have been set very high. It was enjoyable, don't get me wrong. And the cast thrust themselves into the fun with admirable pluck, but overall the comedic choreography lacked zing. As a rental, it will make a fun night behind the popcorn bowl. And if you haven't seen Women on the Verge..., do yourself a favor and queue that bad boy up.
In other entertainment news, Project Runway is back. The first episode of season three was a bit boring, but season two was a hard act to follow. The only thing of note to me was the way Michael Kors' eyes lit up at the sight of the handsome Jude Law-ish (but brunette) Keith. I predict a generous Daniel V.-esque job offer from Kors if Keith manages to stick around. Now if they will only send home the dude with the neck tattoo. Just looking at the snaking ink around his neck makes me short of breath, and not in a good way.
Clips of the week:
From The Daily Show, an absolutely creepy Dubya tries to get laughs with a pork-related callback.
From The Colbert Report, one of the best interview guests Stephen's had on when it comes to someone approaching his quick wit: Mr. Mort Zuckerman.
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