howard hughes and diane lane

after tuesday's lackluster post, some short, and hopefully more eventful, facts about my existence. yesterday brought tiny raindrops and a morning filled with editing other people's responses to a new ludovine sagnier and sure dutch hit for natalie portman and amos gitai about multicultural women bonding in the middle east. after that, the new york premiere of cannes winners, oldboy and assayas' clean. i can't believe i forgot about the twist ending to oldboy, but i guess that makes it such a powerful film (i've spent quite alot of time now finding synonyms for 'powerful' and also, strangely, 'distraught'). clean, however, was underwhelming, boring even.
today i managed to quite viciously review a new horror film in the ring vein: "its cheap gory thrills are a disgrace to what could have been an interesting vehicle for an underused actress." (a short and cheesy description: "a bored housewife spends the scariest week in her life trying to prevent her husband's death from happening, thereby disturbing the laws of cause and effect, and changing the future of her family forever.") the other script was a very wonderful, confessions of a dangerous mind-style, comic drama, apparently based on a true story, about a man who got a million dollar advance for the autobiography of the original aviator, howard hughes. tonight will bring a new and revised edition of my writing worksop, now if only i had written something that didn't involve "obvious plot beats" or "very marketable to a female audience"...