Reminds me of when Emma Thompson did the screenplay of 'Sense and Sensibility' and the producers came back and asked her if she'd be prepared to write a novelization too. No kidding.

Hammett's oeuvre is on my to-do list for next year, inspired by the fact that I stayed in an Airbnb in San Francisco that looks directly on to the apartment in which he wrote most of his books. It was pretty cool to think that he was probably staring at the window I was looking out of when he wrote The Maltese Falcon.

I'm planning to formally change my surname to 'Disgruntled'.

*M*A*S*H spells out 'So What is 11 Seasons? Chopped Liver?' in sandbags on the ground*

That photo is a caption competition waiting to happen.

My hatred for Baby Voice is only exceeded by my hatred for Hipster Keening Baby Voice.

Strip away all the posturing, the image changes and the sex, and Madonna's music has always been as cloying and bland as a bowl of Frosted Flakes.

… which is pretty much what it is.

The AV Club
… Only Exists Because … Man-Child

If anything, this season has pointed out that while both ends of the political spectrum are more violently opposed to one another than ever before, they're becoming more and more like one another in the process.

Exactly. It was making fun of the notion that owning a gun is a magical panacea to all of society's ills. Hardly a vindication of the belief in the right to bear arms as the review suggests.

Eveready batteries definitely still exist.

It's Comedy Central's own (frankly kind of ridiculous) policy to censor shows they broadcast before 1am. The FCC have nothing to do with it.

Great Job, BBC!

And yet it's only rated a B+ here. What do you have to do to get an A?

Developers pull shit like this frequently. So what if some government body fines them $25,000 for pushing over some historic building? If they're going to build a $30 million apartment on the site, that's pocket change.

Totally. I was blown away by the Charlie Chaplin Blu-Rays that came out recently. You see new things in them every time you watch - especially the way Chaplin would sometimes flick a nervous little bear-with-me-here glance at the audience.

I ended up liking the adaptation overall, but I'm still baffled as to why they flattened out the Gentleman's character like that.

"Nervously high hopes" describes my feelings pretty well, too. It could be fantastic, or it could be just awful.

To my mind, this is the best Harold Lloyd to show somebody you want to get into Harold Lloyd. The Kid Brother might be sweeter, Safety Last might be scarier, Hot Water might be funnier - but this one just has all the goods, plus the jazz age New York we all dream of visiting.