Apropos of nothing, here’s something you might not think a person would like to publicize on the internet: last evening, I spent a few minutes of my precious, finite life watching a critically panned film entitled Season of the Witch. The star of this film is none other than the crown prince of the Coppola Empire, Nic Cage. This man is no stranger to greatness, having made my life better on a number of occasions (see Raising Arizona for further evidence of that fact), but along the way, he made some fatal missteps which resulted in his involvement in Season of the Witch. Maybe he thought we wouldn’t notice that it was him, since he has blonde hair and is covered in chainmail for a large part of the film (note: this is an assumption, as I only saw the first 10 minutes), but it’s definitely him. I’d bet my The Wicker Man action figures on it.
Rather than belabor the point with reasons and explanations, let’s just say that S of the W is a spectacularly bad movie, and I was disappointed.
In order to regain my enchantment with Mr. Cage, I knew I needed something to remind me of his greatness. Lo and behold, this fell into my lap. I’m not sure why, but it’s really doing the trick.
Thank you, internet! You always come through for me.
Unrelated blog post contributed by BH