So, the first shot of everyone in X-Men: Rent is Due was released last week. Everyone is wearing their X-uniform (or, in the case of January Jones, some overstock from Ricky’s House of Dancewear), and everyone looked varying levels of grimly-game-for-it and embarrassed.

I looked at it and sighed on behalf of all those delightful character actors whose agents had been just WAITING to jump in a franchise. Wither their dignity now?, I thought wistfully, and closed the browser window. I wasn’t going to say anything about it, mostly because when an actor’s promo shot is pre-embarrassed, you figure they already know what they did.

However, then we got a look at some more production stills, and I just can’t let these go. Sorry, everyone, but when you release this photo, you have it coming.

Inside, I write a whole different movie that belongs to that photo.
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I wanted to do something really meaningful for International Blog Against Racism Week. Something wrenching, profound, well-written.

I thought about writing a heartfelt essay about people of color in movies. Then I thought about writing a well-organized essay about people of color in movies. Then I thought about creating a list of well-realized people of color in movies. Then I realized there’s no way to organize any aspect of this little Hollywood clusterfuck, so let’s play it fast and loose, okay? There’s just so many ways to be offensive, why stick to just one?

Welcome to A Night at the Movies!

Come in, sit down! Be exploited and stereotyped! It’s fun.
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I am not the biggest Bond fan in the world. When he’s not a cardboard cutout in a tux, he’s a suave-slash-vicious example of British imperialist blahblah. Even as a kid I couldn’t see the appeal; Bond rarely entertained, the women rarely lived. I caught a couple of the Pierce Brosnan ones, and I like Daniel Craig in the role (though I still haven’t seen the latest one he’s in), so my cultural awareness of James Bond is more or less a vague impression of guns and boat chases and Timothy Dalton scrunching up his face all the time like he’d just smelled poop. Also, because his girlfriend was probably dead.

All this to say, I was totally unprepared to be surfing channels and to run across Live and Let Die. I couldn’t bring myself to turn it off, because I kept waiting for a punch line that never came, and then it was over.

And you guys, we need to talk.

You know, let’s just begin with the title card.

Yeah. So, that happens!

You think it can’t get ironically better / actually worse? Aren’t you sweet.
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I have come to accept that The Secret of Moonacre, about whose costumes I have already written much, will never see release in the States because of magical reasons of which I am unaware but probably involve dragons and things. So, I will have to make up this damn movie myself. Luckily, the best website in the world The Costumer’s Guide, had a link to some new costume stills, so like photos of a crime scene, I can use these to piece together what’s happened.

P.S. From these pictures, what happened is not good.

Oh, you can run, young heroine, but you can’t hide.

Funny you mention a crime scene…
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So, Season Three of the Tudors is starting. I know this because I saw this ad:

And. Um.

“Bad costumes, and some Fassbender Syndrome.”
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