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This week they are showing the movie Mr Brooks on Sky starring Kevin Costner as a homicidal maniac, but referred to with over-the-top political correctness as a character with an “addiction to murder.” ....A “special need” too far, you might think.
The chilling movie was showing each night this week in the Monk bedroom, starting at 11.45 p.m. on Monday evening, grabbing our attention with gratuitous violence, and the big questions of the why and the wherefore, would these men murder those two naked lovers?
As the plot twists developed, the Monks in due course fell asleep, and the answers to the big questions of the why and the wherefore, would these men murder those two naked lovers,.... were postponed for another night.
On Tuesday Night we started again and watched again the first half hour of the movie. In a Ground-Hog-Day-way, we yet again succumbed to our slumber.
On Wednesday Night I gave up on the enterprise, and declined to watch the first half hour. I fell asleep immediately. Nevertheless, Mrs monk woke me up so I could watch the last half hour, at 3.am I did not exactly warm to this idea, but I allowed the soundtrack of murderous psycho babble wash over me, as I half slept. This is definitely how not to watch a movie. A movie should have a beginning, a middle, and an end, but in the right order unless you are a French Auteur. Not that I have yet seen the middle.
Notwithstanding the particular problems of watching a movie with Mrs Monk alongside me, movies are best seen in a cinema, where Mrs Monk will at least whisper her continuous commentary on the action. At home she feels no such restraint, and is happy to voice her commentary through a megaphone, even at three in the morning.
I would rather watch a movie at the Odeon behind 5 teenagers with a bucket of popcorn and five slurping milk shakes, because they at least would not jab me in the ribs to get my attention.
shoestringonlne
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