About More Things and Less Figure Skating
Post 1959:
Because I’m exceedingly productive on Sundays, I thought I might watch a movie. Turns out there's a Peaky Blinders feature on Netflix. Interesting. If you haven’t seen the show, it’s quality. Stylish, great acting, decent, sometimes byzantine plot lines. Cillian Murphy broods and thinks and broods and thinks whilst everyone around him is a bit of an idiot—it’s sort of formulaic, but it doesn’t insult your intelligence. The dialogue is great at times. The exchanges between Murphy’s character and Tom Hardy’s character are gold. Multi-layered joy.
So the series finished up a few years ago. Now there’s this movie. I haven’t watched it yet. Maybe it’ll be good. It’s a lazy Sunday. I should want to.
Eh.
These are capable artists and I don’t have a right to predict a cynical unnecessary offering, but that’s what’s in my head. Is the entertainment business jaded or am I?
Well… probably both. I’ve seen too many remakes and recycled ideas not to be. Wonderful movies and shows aren’t allowed to live and die with dignity. Lots of ugly, reanimated corpses out there.
So yes, I’ve been made less than hopeful. Then again, sometimes it’s great when things are brought back, even after a story is completed. Aliens, for example. They didn’t need to make that. Glad they did, though. It’s amazing. But then everything after that is more or less shambolic. Oh well. The world isn’t made to serve me, but I’d like it to serve someone besides the people that make money off these projects. If the only ones benefiting are the writers, actors and directors, they are wasting everyone’s time so they can get some more cash. This is the opposite of art. It’s probably not criminal, but it should be.
I’m not saying the guys that made the Peaky Blinders movie should be in jail. It might be really good. We’ll see. In the meantime, I’ll write up some warrants for the makers of all The Cutting Edge sequels. When it comes to figure skating movies, there can be only one. Cheers and see you after.
