Today I’d like to tell you about two movies I’ve watched recently, both starring actors in their twilight years, who put in a hell of a great performance at not being what they seem.
Lately, I’ve been keeping myself busy a lot. Keeping the ship of my mind from dashing on the rocks of despair and disgorging its precious cargo of sanity (and hotpants!) has become my full-time job, on top of my full-time job, and also writing, my other full-time job.
Chief Wiggam knows a good deal when he sees one.
Keeping busy can be a lot of things – reading, writing, working out, cooking, seeing friends, and of course, watching TV shows and movies.
Today I’d like to tell you about two movies I’ve watched recently, both starring actors in their twilight years, who put in a hell of a great performance at not being what they seem. There will be NO spoilers today!
In all, Copper was a good show. The production design was great, and if anything the show suffered from an overabundance of story rather than too little.
BBCTV’s Copper
Flipping through the Netflix Instant Watch feeds, I kept coming upon the show Copper. I added it to my queue and if my mind worked like Windows Explorer the file name was \\hotpeople_periodcostumes_possiblydepressing_watchwhiledrunk.mov. Having watched the show, I feel validated about my naming convention, although it is certainly worth discussing in detail.
Copper is an ensemble piece following several interrelated stories in 1860s New York. One group, the Irish, is made up of cops headed by the titular Detective Kevin “Corky” Corcoran, a scrappy looker of a gent (Tom Weston-Jones) and veteran of the still-occurring Civil War. He immigrated as a boy, and spent a difficult childhood in the streets of Five Points. After seeing the way the Irish were treated, he joined the Army to provide for his wife and daughter, who begin the show missing. In the army, he served with Matthew Freeman (Ato Essandoh) under Major Robert Morehouse (Kyle Schmidt), who each serve as contact points for the other groups in the show.
I read another review of the first episode somewhere (can’t remember where and searching my history is proving fruitless) that describes it as VERY good. I am cautiously optimistic!
I’ve been devouring all the recent Preacher news like it’s made out of candied bacon.
OOOOOOOOOOO – The Dominic Cooper Casting announcement
Joseph Gilgun as Cassidy – Jesse’s compatriot and an Irish punk-rock vampire Cassidy casting announcement
I read another review of the first episode somewhere (can’t remember where and searching my history is proving fruitless) that describes it as VERY good. I am cautiously optimistic!
I won’t go into a big description of the story in today’s post, and I might try to do another one that introduces people unfamiliar with the comic in a spoiler-free way.
Fitting for today (St. Patrick’s Day!), Preacher is written by one of my favorite comics writers, Garth Ennis, who is Irish. He also wrote some of the best storylines (in my opinion) of Constantine – that show turned out to be somewhat disappointing, but I’m HOPING that Preacher delivers.
Fingers crossed!
My Mom had the DNA test thingy done – I am 38% Irish. I don’t hold much with the test results (since Ireland is a country, not an ethnicity – I guess I would be Celtic or Gaelic? Does that even make sense?) but she was excited about it and I am trying to encourage her to get out and do things. She’s been rather down lately.
But I’m not going out in a green paper hat to drink green beer or whiskey until I’m sick, either. I’ll stay in and spend time with my imaginary boyfriend for the holiday, Kevin ‘Corky’ Corcoran from BBCTV’s Copper. An Irishman just trying to make good as a cop in 1860s New York, he fights for truth and justice but also because he just likes getting in fights.
I cleaned myself up and ventured out in search of food and entertainment. Happily, Deadpool was playing at my favorite local place, so I saw that while eating mozzarella sticks and chicken fingers.
Sometime around my birthday last year, someone wished me happy birthday. Lots of people did, but this person’s well-wish stood out, because of its ominous addendum:
“Happy 37th Birthday! Welcome to the land of the two-day hangover!”
I wish I could remember who it was; less because I want to tell them that they are right, than because I want to get the next winning lotto numbers from them; because they spoke horrible, horrible truth.
