Not that I was likely to buy a ticket anyway, but Mark Holland's two-word summary of the Spartan thong-saga, 300 finally scared me off:
Turd. Polished.
As for TV, the one TV programme I've been watching religiously is Lost. My eldest son put me on to it well after the first season began, and I've been catching up on DVDs. He still loves it, but my enthusiasm has been waning ever since Jack and Co wandered into the hatch. I'm still hanging on, but only just. Not so John Podhoretz, who's several episodes ahead of me, and now pronounces the show brain-dead:
Let me say that "Lost" has grown so absurdly bad that it's now alternating between its pointlessly convoluted central mystery-within-a-mystery-within-a-mystery — which clearly its own creators no longer understand or can follow — and unbelievably stupid episodes like the one last night, which was little more than a Twilight Zone knockoff.
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