I guess the thrust of my satirical riposte missed its mark. Too subtle, maybe? It felt like I was laying it on too thick… One of the risks of dallying with strangers on message boards, I suppose.

Ok, but first let me tell you a little story about the days when I was in high school and used to play air guitar to Operation Ivy when I should have been doing the dishes. Boy did I used to listen to music. Then I listened to other music, later in life. But sometimes I still listen to Operation Ivy.

Can it, though? What my script for Dark Paris Can Wait presupposes is not only that it can't, but that it can't darkly and anti-heroically. Wait, that is.

Isn't it bad, though? The author says the rhetorical trip back in time to those sweet high school days of Rudy the Rabbiting around on the cross country squad will be brief. It wasn't brief. Nor was it relevant. I want my money back.

I saw this at a cinema in Chicago with a bunch of art-house regulars (read: old white people) and weekend afternoon TV kung fu heads (read: young black people). As with the author's experience, the art-house people all laughed at the flying scenes. The kung fu heads were appropriately reverent.

Rachel Getting Married was tough. Damn tough.

I really don't understand the push-back against this one. To my mind, it's a carefully executed horror film and is far more disciplined than any of Wheatley's other work.

I'm enjoying this, too. Sticking up for a movie is a good way to remind yourself of why you like it. Or discover you don't, actually… Plus, it's better than working!

This is from "Reloaded," right?

Now I'll just pause to say again (I bring it up every time someone mentions the film) that the homemade crotch-less panties and the fact that the protagonists met at capoeira were my favorite jokes in Sightseers.

Even Michael Smiley? He wasn't an unlikeable dick. He doesn't have it in him.

I was thinking that his "motives" for the earlier brutality were just a manufactured pretext the cult used to bring out the beast. We know Jay is unhinged, particularly after whatever happened in Kiev. He acts erratically throughout the film (eating the mangled meat left in his yard??) and becomes increasingly wild as…

You're saying Kill List is his worst movie? Interesting. What didn't you like about it?

I feel sort of dumb for asking, but what didn't work for you? (I feel dumb because I thought the ending was fine and worry I might have missed some ambiguity.)

Generation Kill is best thing I've seen on the war. I've watched the entire series probably five times and am surprised more people don't talk about it.

I'd argue that Kill List is great.

Our town also had a truck stop that served pizza, and that was my preferred choice for movie nights and sleepover parties. A stoned hillbilly would drive out a steamy pie covered with ham and mushrooms, and I'd settle in for a long night of Robocop and Predator.

I agree. It's impossible to separate the food from youthful memories of the experience. Would I like to go back to those Friday nights when my family would hit the Pizza Hut buffet before going to the movies? Fuckin a!

This is a bit misleading. You aren't defending Pizza Hut pizza per se. You're just describing how nostalgia makes you crave it. That's fine as far as it goes, but I came here to be persuaded.

I saw Blade in the theater and haven't revisited it since. But one viewing was enough to embed this wonderful line in my brain forever.