Of all these looming bad decisions, and there are plenty, the two most confusing are the casting of Penelope Cruz and Angelina Jolie. (…in anything, ever.)

The one I enjoy the most is Frieda Pinto’s casting in a movie that is NOTHING LIKE CLASH OF THE TITANS, OKAY, SO JUST STOP ASKING:

Story follows a young warrior Theseus who leads his men into battle with the immortal Greek gods to defeat evil and the powerful elder gods of the Titans in order to save mankind. The “Slumdog Millionaire” thesp will portray Phaedra, an oracle priestess who must join Theseus — played by Henry Cavill (”The Tudors”) — on his quest to prevent the cataclysmic war from erupting.

You should see my face right now. (Is “skeptical glee” even an expression? Because I seriously can’t wait for any of this.)

At Fantasy Magazine this week, I take on the career cases of Ten Sidekicks Who Could Do Better.

There are a lot of short-shrifted sidekicks on this list, all of whom could do better, except for the one sidekick I absolutely cannot stand - “The Mouse” Gaston from Ladyhawke. I will never warm up to him, ever, and though Sidekick Union bylaws give him a loophole for sympathy, his character annoys me so much that there is no way I can ever sit through that whole movie again. (Unless you pay money to make me in , but I’m pretty sure no one would waste a chance like that on a movie like Ladyhawke.)

I don’t even hate the movie, necessarily; I appreciate the relatively spare take on what could have been a total disaster. But oh man, that was the movie that ruined Matthew Broderick for me forever. The Dangers of MisCasting: It Can Happen to You!

I am joking. This was a seriously earthly care. Backstage couples were clearly straining to hear that someone screwed up. (To be fair, this was a possibility. The ice dancing finals last time looked like last week’s men’s finals; skaters kept hitting vegetable oil and going down.) Luckily, no contenders fell, so there wasn’t that horrible, unmistakable sound of 10,000 people suddenly become your mom, disappointed but knowing you tried So Hard.

There was only one instance of that sound, and it came from me when I realized that Belbin and Agosto weren’t going to medal, even though their performance was more mature and expressive than the team that edged them out. (The team who won bronze had rope belts that he used as an assist in their lifts/tricks; the announcer mentioned they’d have to make this illegal, since it was clearly a performance aid. But apparently everything works once, and they got a bronze.)

By far the best were Virtue and Moir, whose gorgeous dance earned them gold. Little-known fact, though:

(They are SO WHOLESOME. When they got home, bluebirds swooped down from the sky to lift their medals off.)

Apparently, this year I’m watching the Olympics? I will alert the me from two weeks ago who had to be told they are on NBC. As usual, I gravitate to the most costume-heavy and subjectively-judged events, to make myself the most unhappy. Why can’t I just like speed skating like a normal person? (Answer: they have sharp blades and go really fast and SOMEONE COULD LOSE A FINGER. I am not watching that.)

I was going to have an essay about ice dancing here, but seriously, I don’t even have the words for ice dancing. It’s so utterly shameless I don’t think there’s much to say. And it’s not the lack of throws or anything - I am one of those people who believes ballroom dance* should be an Olympic sport, so good technique and some musicality is basically all I require, I guess. But man, those ice dancers do not believe in toning it down in the face, ever.

In unrelated news, I wanted to be fair about something (for once - zing!), so before I passed judgment on the show, I rented the DVDs from Netflix instead of relying on memories from my childhood. I’m waiting on the last discs of the third season, but then I will be talking about Beauty and the Beast. Because We Need to Talk.

* You cannot even tell me ballroom dancers are not Olympic-caliber athletes. I have seen them. They train like MACHINES. Why shouldn’t they get the chance to be unfairly judged and embroiled in international sports politics like everyone else?

In theory, this is a good idea. Fairy-tale retellings are enjoying a renaissance, and there’s never been so much money to be made from wolf-riddled stories of sexual awakening. In practice, however, it’s written by the guy who wrote Orphan. (We’re doomed.)

Check out the article for more movie-nerd thoughts on what this movie is up against!