Flicks

Only managed to get one-and-a-half pages written yesterday, because I got wrapped up in movies.

First, in the afternoon, I saw that Gospel Movie Channel (or is it Gospel Music Channel?) was showing the 1996 made-for-TV movie Home Song, based on the novel by LaVyrle Spencer.  Spencer used to be my absolute favorite author ever, and I’d read this book when it first came out, as well as seen the movie way back when.  But because there is nothing new under the sun, I knew the story of Home Song had a few tiny similarities to the story I am writing, so I thought it might be educational to watch.

It’s a pretty bad movie.  Sort of a lesson in the way novels that are mostly “talking heads” (people having conversations) and inner monologues (people thinking about how bad things are) do not translate so well to the big (or small) screen.  Good book, blah movie.  It didn’t help that the acting was just so-so.

But whatever.  Was I educated?  I’m not sure.  Maybe it was mostly a reminder of what things I don’t want in my own novel and of why I don’t look up to LaVyrle Spencer as a novel-writing goddess anymore.  (It’s a morals thing.)

Last night, Brian and I didn’t get around to having supper until after the boys were in bed.  We sat down to eat at around 9:30 p.m. and decided to watch the TMC presentation of the 1978 film Death on the Nile, which I had recorded on the DVR months ago.

Now this was worth watching.  Based on Agatha Christie’s mystery novel of the same name, it features Peter Ustinov as Hercule Poirot.  And the cast was just stellar:  Angela Lansbury (who has ever and always been so underrated), Bette Davis (love her voice!), Olivia Hussey, Maggie Smith, David Niven, Mia Farrow, David Kennedy, and Simon MacCorkindale (who looked so familiar to me, but I think only because he looks so much like the late author L.M. Montgomery’s husband, Ewan Macdonald—wonder if they were related?).

I was a little worried that, having been made in the ’70s, this film might be a little over-the-top dorky.  But no.  It was just terrific, all around.  And it was actually filmed in Egypt, which was so cool.  Brian and I had the murder solved before it even happened, but I think that’s because we’d both read the book years ago and have read so many Christie novels and seen so many TV shows and films based on her work.  You get familiar, you can sense who the bad guys are.  With this one, we loved how, as Hercule Poirot confronted each suspect, we got to see how each of them could have done it.  Unfortunately, that meant it was sort of like the same character got murdered eight times!  A tiny bit tedious.

But oh, if you haven’t seen that movie, it’s so worth it. 

In other news, I’ve been re-reading Howard Mohr’s How to Talk Minnesotan: A Visitor’s Guide, brushing up on my native tongue so I can make sure the dialogue in my novel sounds Minnesota-natural:

Yep.

You bet.

Quite the deal.

Whatever.