Sunday, December 01, 2019

MRS. ARCHER

From Attack Of The Fifty Foot Woman: "You're being ridiculous, Nancy, there's nothing out there". Reaction of the apartment mate when they drive out into the desert with a gun: "If that thing is really thirty foot tall, you don't need a revolver, you need a frikkin' howitzer! Okay, lady?!?"

"I was right! I was right! It's real! I'm not crazy!"

The movie is, more or less, about betrayal. Plus existenzangst, selbstzweifel, und alkoholismus. Then he clobbers the butler.


When I went out for a smoke, the street was wet; it had rained very recently, and the wind had blown detritus against a parked scooter in front. Because of the weather, this block was quite empty, when normally at that early hour of a Saturday evening it had wandering drunks and partying millennials.
Froze tuchus, went back in. Still nothing happening.

"Well, it's too early to tell, but we should get her to a hospital immediately!"

"Be careful, there's evidence of some kind of radiation."

"It's time for that injection you ordered."

"We have nothing to hide."

The spooky music was better than the dialogue. And it took a long time for things to happen, with overmuch talking in between. Intellectuals at work.

And great screaming.



The bad girl was deliciously saucy looking, in that nineteen fifties way.



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