catsitting cable action

I was catsitting this weekend for some very groovy women who have cable TV, so I spent some hangin'-with-the-kitties time checking out what's out there these days---like poker. There's poker all over. (I'm likin' the poker.) (Which is really, of course, about people as much as cards/math.) Last night I stumbled across When Harry Met Sally... on AMC. Ordinarily I'd probably not have stopped to watch it, apart from maybe a scene here or there, but it was a kind of pop-up-movie-o deal, with a black box at the bottom of the screen and factoids and behind-the-scenes stuff appearing there.

Where specifically something was shot on location, or what the costume mistress thought about this look or that or how that character was or wasn't like Annie Hall (whose costuming she'd also done)---that kind of stuff is moderately interesting. But the generation of the script stuff was moreso, particularly in this case cuz Reiner and Crystal and Ephron and co. had personal relationships, too. And the real juiciness was stuff like how Reiner was in a 10-year depression/funk after his break-up with Laverne (Penny Marshall). Or so the sentences said. It was like a subplot of "real life" stuff to follow along with the film.

The long friendship of Reiner & Crystal and how Crystal was, like, the 5th or 6th actor offered the part; how the watching TV together on the phone from separate apartments, which H. & S. do in the film, was a practice of Reiner/Crystal, and how they shared certain neuroses, too; how the women on the set reacted to their bond at first; a little more about Bruno Kirby (whom I've always liked); who contributed what bit to what scene---I was sucked right in. Of course the movie's plot itself is all about relationship vicissitudes and such as well, and it's not too sugary sticky to stomach (even if, yeah, it is sort of Woody Lite). So it was almost made-to-order fodder for my still-reeling romantic's heart, fresh from a difficult meeting with H.

It didn't end until midnight, and then I went home and did a few hours of freelance. And then still couldn't sleep for almost three more hours (which I hear today was goin' around last night---at least 4 co-workers also were inexplicably insomniatic, or whatever the adjective would be).

catsitting cable action

I was catsitting this weekend for some very groovy women who have cable TV, so I spent some hangin'-with-the-kitties time checking out what's out there these days---like poker. There's poker all over. (I'm likin' the poker.) (Which is really, of course, about people as much as cards/math.) Last night I stumbled across When Harry Met Sally... on AMC. Ordinarily I'd probably not have stopped to watch it, apart from maybe a scene here or there, but it was a kind of pop-up-movie-o deal, with a black box at the bottom of the screen and factoids and behind-the-scenes stuff appearing there.

Where specifically something was shot on location, or what the costume mistress thought about this look or that or how that character was or wasn't like Annie Hall (whose costuming she'd also done)---that kind of stuff is moderately interesting. But the generation of the script stuff was moreso, particularly in this case cuz Reiner and Crystal and Ephron and co. had personal relationships, too. And the real juiciness was stuff like how Reiner was in a 10-year depression/funk after his break-up with Laverne (Penny Marshall). Or so the sentences said. It was like a subplot of "real life" stuff to follow along with the film.

The long friendship of Reiner & Crystal and how Crystal was, like, the 5th or 6th actor offered the part; how the watching TV together on the phone from separate apartments, which H. & S. do in the film, was a practice of Reiner/Crystal, and how they shared certain neuroses, too; how the women on the set reacted to their bond at first; a little more about Bruno Kirby (whom I've always liked); who contributed what bit to what scene---I was sucked right in. Of course the movie's plot itself is all about relationship vicissitudes and such as well, and it's not too sugary sticky to stomach (even if, yeah, it is sort of Woody Lite). So it was almost made-to-order fodder for my still-reeling romantic's heart, fresh from a difficult meeting with H.

It didn't end until midnight, and then I went home and did a few hours of freelance. And then still couldn't sleep for almost three more hours (which I hear today was goin' around last night---at least 4 co-workers also were inexplicably insomniatic, or whatever the adjective would be).