Summer movie season has begun and we are averaging one a week.
Recently? Date Night, which was OK.
And The Losers. The projector broke in the middle. Because of the inconvenience, we each got a free movie pass to use on our next visit. Since it was essentially free, I thought it was a damn good movie.
The previews beforehand were for The A Team, and The Expendables, both of which we will probably see, for the same reason we saw The Losers. Because they are all, essentially the same movie.
This week, we saw Iron Man 2, which I loved for all the same reasons I loved the first one.
The movie we did not see, nor are we likely to, is Furry Vengeance. Correct me if I’m wrong, but is this the worst title for a family movie ever? I was under the impression that Furries were adults who dressed up in animal costumes. And that sometimes, there was a fetish aspect to it. Not always, of course. But sometimes.
I prefer my family comedies to be 100 percent fetish porn free. And not to suck. Which is probably the actual problem with this movie.
Although I have a higher tolerance for sucking, when movies have the likeable, and generally attractive Brendon Fraser in them. (Why yes, I saw Dudley DoRight. How did you know?)
But I do not think I want to see Brendon Fraser dressed up like a giant fox. Or worse yet, a giant raccoon.
I once had a difficult bus ride, with a giant raccoon. It was a few years ago, at a science fiction convention where we got stuck in an overflow hotel a few miles from the action. But there was a regular shuttle to take us back and forth.
A similar thing just happened to me at the Romantic Times conference. Only without the giant raccoon, and the regular shuttle service. The shuttle we had last week was decidedly irregular. We hated it, because of the limited stops, and it hated us right back, probably because of the lack of tips. By the end of the conference the driver was threatening us with one way service only, and I was begging for a cab.
And a step stool might have been nice as well, since it was a hell of a jump up into that van, and I am a fat woman with short legs. It was not pretty.
But the shuttle with the raccoon on it ran both ways, every half hour, regular as clockwork. A vermin filled clockwork.
Now, I am probably being unfair, and one large raccoon does not fill even a small bus. But he was sitting near the front, staring at everyone with his big glassy eyes. And the mouth in his big furry head was full of extremely realistic looking teeth.
He looked hungry. And you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. What do giant raccoons think about anyway? It was creeping me out.
Years later, someone told me a story, in passing, about seeing a fresh raccoon in a hotel lobby getting punched so hard that it knocked his head off.
Not by me. But I could see why it might have happened.