What kept me?

Finally got around to watching the movie that's been sitting on top of the TV for months. Easily the saddest comedy out there. Maybe Muriel's Wedding is in the ballpark.



Danny Peary has a book, Alternate Oscars, in which he names his picks for Best Picture, Actor and Actress from 1927 to 1992 or so. For 1960 he selects Psycho over The Apartment. Well, okay, one could make the argument. But his argument is that The Apartment's premise is dated. Psycho, however, is plagued by some horrible psychobabble in the third act. Nearly deflates the greatness that preceded it.

And that's the way it crumbles, cookie-wise.