This will be short. With my wife home until at least 3:45 p.m. this afternoon, I have had no spare time for blogging here.
The only purpose I have for a post today is to record the fact that shortly after 10 a.m. this morning, I used our Android TV Box and tuned in the 2017 movie The Shape of Water for my younger brother and I to watch.
He deemed it to be an imposition, however, for he had been given a report by a couple of his drinking buddies who both declared it to be unworthy of bothering with. They were both supremely disappointed with it.
And thus he bemoaned my determination to seek a source for it anyway.
Granted, anyone who had expected to be watching a bona fide science fiction movie would certainly have found it to be otherwise; it was in fact a fantasy.
Nevertheless, I know that my brother became invested in the story, and he watched it with considerable interest after he was deep into it.
Actress Sally Hawkins did a superb job of portraying a mute janitress at a research facility, and it was impossible for us not to feel great sympathy for her plight as a reclusive and plain-looking lonely woman into her middle years who had probably never before experienced physical love.
Yes, the plot had its gaping improbabilities, but it was notwithstanding an arresting "Beauty and the Beast" sort of fable in modern ─ well, early 1960s ─ guise.
And as a heartless and relentless villain, actor Michael Shannon's portrayal as such was superb. He became the monster of the movie. However, it was entirely ignored that in seeing him die at the movie's conclusion, he would have left behind a wife, and a young son and daughter.
I wonder how many viewers spared them any thoughts after being gratified by the despatching of the malevolent rotter by the creature he had so ardently sought to destroy?
But enough ─ I must seek a bath, for it is nearing 7:30 p.m. and I have not even nominally supped as yet.
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