There Can (Still!) Be Only Monday! Talking About Highlander…A Lot, Part 42

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Last time:

  • Duncan—like Connor, but interesting;
  • Methos:—complicated fan favorite;
  • Joe Dawson—Yaaaaayyyy!!!;
  • Richie—I would rather own a Ramirez-themed alarm clock. Two.

42. The answer to life, the (princes of the) universe, and everything: Endgame.

Highlander: Endgame (which, yes, isn’t the last film) brings together the movie and TV Highlanderverses and reunites the two MacLeods.

The answer to the question most viewers probably asked themselves is answered when, in the first minutes, the villains kill Rachel from the original movie. Endgame is very much a series-mythos story rather than any sort of return to Connor’s world—though that means we get a little Methos and Dawson in this tale of a self-hating immortal who’s formed his own ruthless death cult.

One of the cult’s members is Duncan’s ex-wife, who is understandably bitter about that time he stabbed her on their wedding night because he knew she was an immortal (she didn’t) and because good old Cousin Connor put the idea in his head that she should die while in her full youth and vitality (in fairness, he presumably meant later: Connor isn’t stupid, though I have a harder time making that argument about Duncan once he does this Groom of Lammermoor bit here). Eventually it becomes clear that they will have to combine forces to defeat the evil Jacob Kell—and that means one MacLeod must take the other’s head.

[If anyone cares after all this time, spoiler a…head?]

Here is a picture of my cat. He is sweet, graceful and none too bright, and everyone adores him. That's all the hint I'm going to give you.
Here is a picture of my cat. He is sweet, graceful and none too bright, and everyone adores him. That’s all the hint I’m going to give you.

That would be Duncan, of course, after some convincing and a long speech from Connor about how tired he is of being immortal and losing everyone he loves. I don’t think this result could have been planned since 1986, but if the Highlander movies were intended as a long-form portrayal of living with depression, my hat is off to everyone involved, because it works completely and would explain Connor’s apparent ennui in the first film.

I find myself struggling to explain what I dislike about Endgame, since “It’s so dark!” inevitably leaves me wondering why the first movie seems less dark. Possibly it shouldn’t: it’s a thematically similar idea, except the Kurgan wasn’t allergic to fun like the ex-priest villain here, but there were also a few genuinely comic moments. I don’t miss Ramirez—hoo boy, I do NOT miss Ramirez—but I miss the effect he had on the tone of the first Highlander.

Still, Endgame has its moments for viewers like me, and for the part of my cinematic credo which reads, “There is no such thing as a bad swordfight.”

 

Next time: I finally got around to starting 2013’s Dracula TV series (would someone pleeeease let Daniel Knauf finish a show?), so I’m going to re-view the Coppola movie.

Next time on TCBOM? The audio plans are still up in the air, so though there may yet be an audio discussion or two, next week I’ll be doing something else on Mondays. It’s been fun!

Found-Again Friday: The Secret of Terror Castle: Three Investigators #1

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Why Found-Again? Like many bookish kids of a certain time period, I cut my teeth on Nancy Drew novels (I was hard on books, so if you could see them, you’d think I meant that literally) and the Hardy Boys, supplemented by the occasional T.A.C.K. puzzle-mystery collection. But my favorites were the Three Investigators mysteries, so this week I’m taking a look at the first book in that series.

Not the edition I used to have, but my library had the ones with these psychedelic covers. Mem'ries....
Not the edition I used to have, but my library had the ones with these psychedelic covers. Mem’ries….

The Premise: Inquisitive youngsters Pete, Bob and Jupiter (…yeah) start a detective agency by organizing Jupiter’s family junkyard into an office and a series of brilliant secret passages and by blackmailing Alfred Hitchcock—clearly the best way to do almost anything. For their first case, the three look into the mystery of a vanished old movie star and his spooky mansion. Along the way they have to cope with rivals from school, a menacing ex-manager, and mounting evidence that the darned house may actually be haunted.

I mean it in the best possible way when I say that this one’s a Scooby-Doo episode—a connection I never made when I was watching the Scooby Gang as a kid: maybe I thought everything was like that when I was eight. As explained Gothic goes, though, it’s quite atmospheric, with no amount of explanation quite able to quell the characters’ fright.

The thing about mystery novels for kids is that they center intelligence as the most important quality the character can have—at least, that’s my theory for why I loved these books so much and idolized two of the three main characters. I have clear memories of begging my father to help me move old farm equipment around to make secret passages like The Three Investigators (he refused, thus passively saving me from a series of encounters with various poisonous snakes).

The series is not without its own mysteries, though. Unlike Nancy Drew, who seems to be forever college-aged, I can’t quite figure out how old Bob, Pete and Jupe are supposed to be. They’re too young to drive, but their kid nemesis is not, which makes me think they can’t be younger than 12. And shouldn’t their kid nemesis be interested in girls by now?

The Verdict: This was a surprisingly fun reread, despite being written in what might be called Kids’ Adventurese, with the bowdlerized swearwords and the wholesome protagonists. I suspect a few more of these will be added to the Found-Again archive as time goes on: at the very least there’s still my favorite, The Singing Serpent, yet to go.

Might go well with: popcorn, a glass of milk, envy that you never owned a printing press when you were approximately twelve years old.

 

Next time: It’s Highlander: Endgame, and probably the end of me writing about Connor MacLeod for a while.

There Can (Still!) Be Only Monday! Talking About Highlander…A Lot, Part 41

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Last time: Duncan MacLeod made new friends…at about a tenth of the rate at which he makes enemies. But one of them is Dawson, so how bad can it be?

41. A Methos to the madness.

This will probably be a short one, since I talked about the series formula last week and a few of the overarching conflicts (the research monkey in me notes with regret that every time there is an erudite secret society calling themselves The Watchers, large numbers of them turn out to be evil. Where are my people?).

While still keeping the formula alive, the show in its later seasons suffers from the same problems afflicting a lot of supernatural-inflected television series, with new rules and new evil creatures popping up everywhere as the stakes are constantly raised. (Spoiler alert! There’s even a plot arc in which, thanks to the machinations of a demon, Richie Ryan is finally sent to the Great Scrappy-Doo Kennel In The Sky.)

And then there’s Methos (portrayed by the awesome Peter Wingfield), a name you probably know if you’ve ever looked for Highlander fan fiction—or possibly any fanfic that could cross over with the world of immortals. An ancient immortal who was undercover for years as a Watcher, Methos is kind of a uniting figure, and not just across the two groups that make up the world of Highlander: the Series. As we eventually learn, he used to ride with a band of barbarians called The Four Horsemen before settling down to a quiet life.

Yep, that’s right: Methos is what you get when the Kurgan decides he wants to be Connor MacLeod when he grows up. He is pretty much the Highlander universe incarnate (only likable! I kid, mostly), which presumably explains his popularity. And it doesn’t hurt that his one impersonator, in the inevitable episode where such a thing happens, is played by Ron Perlman. That’s a mark of quality if I ever saw one.

You can probably tell from this that I’m not altogether fond of the series as a whole, even if Duncan is an engaging protagonist and many of the supporting characters are great. For all I whined about not being able to gauge how things worked for immortals during the original film, learning more about them in the series is a bit like finding out how a magician does his tricks: some of the gloss is gone.

Not that this will stop me from linking to my favorite episode, which is highly entertaining in the vein I described in my Lois & Clark post last week:

 

Next time: I reread a childhood classic…well, my kind of childhood classic… for the first time in decades. I am terrified.

Next time on TCBOM!: The last Highlander movie I’ll be writing about, i.e., the one I tend to call Highlander: the MacLeod Popularity Referendum.

 

 

Found-Again Friday: Lois & Clark

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It appears to be my month for sitting down with things I remember as being feather-light entertainment.

Why Found-Again? I didn’t catch much of this show during its original run in the 1990s, and it’s been about 7 years since my last viewing—during which I horrified a friend by vocally cheering for one of the show’s recurring villains, to the surprise of no one who reads this site. (This is one of those actors-I-will-follow-to-the-gates-of-hell things: I’m pretty sure I will never not root for Lane Davies, who played Tempus on L&C and whom astute readers will note was Mason Capwell in that Santa Barbara video I linked for a Highlander post a while back.)

The Premise: Clark Kent/Superman gets a job as a reporter, falls for Lois Lane, pals around with Jimmy Olson, fights Lex Luthor and others—you know, the standard Superstuff.

Two things distinguish Lois & Clark from other takes on Superman, though, and the first is that this isn’t a take on Superman so much as on Clark Kent, that nice guy with the glasses who will get you the best Chinese takeout because he can secretly fly to China. These incidental uses of Clark’s powers form my favorite parts of the show: one episode’s opening sequence has him playing baseball by himself. Part of Clark’s charm may well stem from the second change: in this version, his adoptive parents are still alive and very much in evidence.

One thing I always forget about Lois & Clark is how gorgeous it is. Perhaps to offset the guy in the bright red-and-blue suit, the sets are saturated with color, and the offices of The Daily Planet are a mix of the stately old and—for the ’90s—shiny new. Pure dumb luck placed the show a a time, technologically, when every gadget shown would seem hopelessly outdated in a few years; by now, the effect is almost like steampunk (what would you call that: faxpunk? beeperpunk?). Rewatching offers a timely reminder that superheroes, even those who are a current focus of the dreaded gritty reboot, can work as fun.

The Verdict: I am baffled by how little nostalgia there seems to be for Lois & Clark. While it didn’t exactly break new ground and could be contrived from time to time, the show on the whole is as handsome and charming as its main character. It may have been cheese, but if so, it was the TV equivalent of Barely Buzzed.

Might go well with: Junk food—and now that I mention it, that’s some good cheese up there in the link.

…Oh, what the heck: Tempus!

 

Next time: I finish my overview of Highlander: the Series, with mention of Methos and a few other things.

 

 

There Can (Still) Be Only Monday! Talking About Highlander…A Lot, Part 40

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Last time: I wanted a buddy movie with Slan and the Kurgan. Also, we bade Connor a temporary farewell, to which he probably responded by looking at us bleakly.

40. A very brief tour of the early seasons. Also, recipe for a series.

The last time I watched Highlander: the Series with any regularity, I was also working my way through a friend’s collection of James Lee Burke novels. It took longer than I like to admit to see that the show and Burke’s Dave Robicheaux mysteries have the same formula:

  • The hero is a helpful man with an occasionally spotty past;
  • Someone from that past surfaces unexpectedly, and the viewer/reader is treated to flashbacks;
  • This causes trouble for the hero, either because the old friend is evil or because the old friend has attracted the attention of other people who are. There will be a fight.

This sounds tedious in list form, but it’s my kind of formula. I love shows in which the episodes are variations on a theme: Le Monstre de la Semaine, c’est moi, as Louis XIV might’ve said had he watched Kolchak. The Problematic Immortal of the Week serves just as well, and includes recurring bad guys like Xavier St. Cloud (Roland Gift, as though having that Fine Young Cannibals song carved into the hard drive of our brains wasn’t evil enough), amoral thief Amanda—a character who would eventually get her own spinoff—and friends of Duncan’s like Hugh Fitzcairn (Roger Daltrey).

The second season introduces the Watchers, who keep tabs on immortals, and Duncan’s in particular, Joe Dawson (played by Jim Byrnes, who I’ve loved since Wiseguy, for heaven’s sake). How great is Dawson? he gets to do the opening-credits narration, that’s how great. He owns a bookstore, he is full of esoteric knowledge, and he can kick no small amount of ass. If the whole Highlander universe had to come down to one character surviving, I would, albeit regretfully, choose him—sorry, Rachel from the first movie, you’re number 3.

The nice thing about the series is that they go to the trouble of hammering out answers to some of the questions the first movie raises, like what happens when an immortal is killed by mortals or by non-sword means, what happens when ordinary people find out about the whole Gathering/ruler-of-the-world thing (spoiler: nothing good), and how much trickery plays a part in the duels. It’s a great fleshing out of hundreds of little what-if scenarios.

Also, more or less in order:

  • Duncan moves to Paris and lives on a houseboat(!);
  • Evil Watchers!;
  • Tessa dies;
  • Richie doesn’t, because Richie is immortal, because whhhhhyyyyyyyy???;
  • Duncan acquires a dojo;
  • Sheena Easton turns up briefly.

As unnatural as it seems to break an overview in the 3/4-point of a season, the Big Bad of season 3, Kalas, brings us to a sort of turning point in the series—more on that later.

 

Next time: No idea. It’s been a crazy week.

Next time on TCBOM!: It’s a really old guy who wants to be left alone! Now we can start the party? Or, Dial M for Ethos.

 

Found-Again Friday: American Dreamer

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Why Found-Again? If you’re familiar with both American Dreamer and this site, you’ll have noticed that it hits all the benchmarks—mystery, romance, bookish heroine, interesting setting, spy crap—necessary to have been part of my formative movie-watching years. And it is so.

The Premise: Housewife Cathy Palmer is in a rut, so she enters (and wins) a writing contest sponsored by her favorite spy novels. After a blow to the head during a tour of Paris, Cathy thinks she is fictional superspy Rebecca Ryan, and it’s up to the books’ real author (Tom Conti) to stop her from running amok.

He fails miserably, of course, because she thinks he’s Rebecca’s sidekick: what self-respecting spy listens to her sidekick?

The movie’s opening homage to 1963’s Charade lets you know exactly what you’re in for. American Dreamer is a kind of movie that doesn’t seem to be made anymore, elegant and articulate and completely bonkers. “Someone gets hit on the head and thinks they’re a superhero” is a cartoon plot, not a movie where important things happen at the ambassador’s ball—and yet here we are. Supporting actors include the excellent Coral Browne and Giancarlo Giannini, and there are a lot of laugh-out-loud moments along with the beautiful shots of Paris.

The Verdict: I’d thought the passage of time might have made me too cynical for this movie. At its heart it’s a fairy tale, a seductive story that murmurs that, as George Eliot wrote,  “it is never too late to be who you might have been.” But who among us doesn’t need to hear that from time to time?

Might go well with: Champagne, French food, Hitchcock movies, Roger Moore Bond films.

The trailer gives away the bad guy (did all the trailers of my youth suck this much and I never noticed until 2015?), so have this instead:

 

Next time: More time with Duncan MacLeod of some clan or other.

Thoughts on Soylent Green

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Last weekend, I finally watched 1973’s Soylent Green. I have a rule that if I make repeated references to a film over time, I’ll make an effort to see the original film at some point (called, for obvious reasons, “The Deliverance Rule”); in the case of Soylent Green, however, I’d been putting it off for years.

I have a problem, you see: years of religious education as a youngster have given me a lasting aversion to apocalypses and dystopias. I’m probably the only person who felt sick after Tom Cruise’s War of the Worlds movie because of the actual plot. The only exception is Hellboy, and as I read more of that, it seems less like an exception and more like long-form masochism on my part*. So I expected that Soylent Green would, at a minimum, ruin my day.

It didn’t come close.

If you’re not familiar with anything about the movie but the titular Soylent Green food substance being made of “Peeeeople!,” a brief rundown: in an environmentally depleted near future, Detective Thorn (Charlton Heston) stumbles onto a secret when a member of the Soylent Company’s board is assassinated. Soylent makes nutrition squares that meet the food needs of most of the non-wealthy in this society: think Clif Bars without the cachet and tastiness. Along the way we see glimpses of $150 vegetables, apartments that come with supplied concubines, and suicide parlors—where Thorn’s roommate eventually checks in after learning the truth about Soylent Green. In the tradition of ’70s nihilistic movies of all stripes, Thorn is fatally wounded before he can broadcast the news of Soylent Green’s very special recipe.

I think there are several reasons the movie didn’t work for me, many of which aren’t really its fault:

  • Their near-future plot takes place in 2022, and we’re supposed to believe the planet has been screwed up for so long that Heston’s character can’t really remember real food. I’ve never been happier about the state of the earth in 2015 in my entire life as I was while watching Soylent Green.
  • The scene in which Thorn is running around the factory and discovering the truth is almost laughable: bodies are apparently being turned into food while still in bags. New Chewy Soylent Green, I guess?
  • There are two things TV and movies in the 1970s seemed sure were imminent: the unlocking of the mind’s psychic potential and the American adoption of the metric system. This would have been a better movie if they’d gone with that first one.
  • The look of the downtrodden citizenry in Soylent Green is heavily derivative of pictures of Soviet breadlines, which probably worked for the film’s viewers for a while, but which now suggests that anyone looking to get rich in 2022 might want to invest heavily in headscarf manufacture.
  • The movie steps on its own premise as far as I’m concerned, making a world so grim it’s hard to believe anybody would care that they’re eating people. Hey, at least someone’s recycling. (This may well be just me: in an ideal world, my mortal remains would be turned into a skeleton in someone’s science class, or they’d overturn the law about binding books in human skin and I’d have to finally finish a novel before making my will. I have a very flexible idea of respect for the dead, I guess.)

As a cultural artifact, Soylent Green is people!!!! interesting, but it’s so rare that I get to write about a movie and conclude that yes, in this day and age, it maybe is for the faint of heart.

 

*Don’t get me wrong: Hellboy is excellent, but I shouldn’t be reading it.

 

There Can (Still) Be Only Monday! Talking about Highlander…A Lot, Part 39

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Today will be the first part of my discussion about the Highlander TV series. First, a confession that will probably inform everything I write about this show:

I HATE RICHIE RYAN.

Sorry.
I do, though.

In theory, the series solves one of the problems with the Highlander franchise by removing Connor. Instead it focuses on his younger cousin Duncan, who has charm and killer abs and a visible will to live. Duncan MacLeod is played by Adrian Paul, and though I didn’t remember it when Highlander: The Series first appeared, I’d seen him before both as a dancer on The Colbys and in the early-’90s Dark Shadows revival as Barnabas Collins’s ill-fated brother. (I’ll bet you always wondered who watched that show.)

Connor does show up in the first episode to pass the torch, as it were–and since I’d never seen it before, I decided to give this one its own TCBOM! entry.

When the show begins, Duncan is living in “retirement” from the whole beheading thing with his mortal girlfriend, industrial sculptor Tessa. They are—surprise!—running an antique store, a fact that makes me begin to wonder if the next town over from mine is merely quaint or secretly infested with immortals.

Richie, a “streetwise” thief who exudes all the menace and worldly experience of the bad kid in an after-school special, is caught trying to rob the store. It’s what must, to someone else, be the beginning of a beautiful friendship (especially since Richie is a not-yet-“killed” immortal); Duncan bails him out of jail and eventually takes him as a sort of sidekick.

The episode itself is a crash course in the Highlanderverse, with the music and a discussion about the perils of mortal/immortal relationships, with flashbacks and a treasure cave of sorts (Duncan’s is less blatant and has a lovely fireplace) and the “villains should drive like madmen” rule firmly in place.

And just like the first movie, a lot of the energy in the episode comes from the bad guy. This is the last time I’ll say “and so-and-so as the Kurgan, kind of,” but Richard Moll (Bull the bailiff from Night Court, for those of us who watched too much TV in the ’80s) is not only a wild-eyed, leather-clad, articulate barbarian, he’s GREAT at it.

In fact, there are only two things I dislike about this episode, other than Richie and my old nemesis “Who Wants To Live Forever?”:

  1. The villain’s name is Slan, which you’d think could be said in a sinister tone, but apparently can’t;
  2. Connor is still wearing those goddamn sneakers.

I’m resisting the temptation to say this opening sequence “turns the Freudian symbolism up to eleven,” but darn it, you know what I mean. They’re missing a comma, too.

 

Next time: An even bigger fairy tale.

Next time on TCBOM!: Going to spend two more weeks on the series, then move on to Endgame. (Those of you familiar with Highlander movie-naming conventions will correctly deduce that’s not the last movie, either.)

Found-Again Friday: My Own Worst Enemy, Season the Only

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Why Found-Again? Years ago, I had a bad habit of watching whatever came on TV after Heroes. This sometimes had unexpected results: I expected to like Journeyman and hated it with a burning loathing, but enjoyed My Own Worst Enemy even though star Christian Slater was never my cup of tea. A few weeks ago, I set out to discover whether that was just the rosy glow of being better than the Heroes seasons I would later refer to as Thomas Hardy’s Matt of the Parkmanvilles, or if the series had genuine merit.

The Premise: Generic businessman Henry suffers a neurological glitch that reveals his alter ego, superspy Edward, who has apparently been James Bonding all over the world for democracy for quite some time. The split personality, deliberately induced by the agency Henry/Edward works for (Henry works for the “legitimate” business upstairs, Edward gets his orders from the basement levels), is suddenly malfunctioning. With the help of a few trusted associates, Henry and Edward have to figure out how to coexist without endangering the world, their own survival, or Henry’s personal life.

I’d forgotten in the years since it went off the air that My Own Worst Enemy was the creation of Daniel “Carnivàle” Knauf. Given that the latter is one of my favorite TV shows, I hope that someday I’ll be able to say the phrase “…that Knauf series that was allowed to finish its complete run unhindered.” (A look at his IMDb entry doesn’t inspire hope, but did inspire me to add last year’s Dracula series to my Netflix queue. If all goes well, I’ll soon have three shows to whine and quote Macbeth’s “untimely ripp’d” line about.)

One impressive facet of the show was its star: Christian Slater, an actor to whom my lifelong response had been along the lines of “…Yep, that’s Christian Slater, all right,” did a great job playing two very different characters who didn’t like each other much. It’s clear for most of the series whether you’re looking at Edward or Henry at any given moment, and it gave me new respect for the actor, especially since he’s playing opposite Alfre Woodard, Madchen Amick, and James “The Reason I Watch Part Of LA Confidential Peeking Through My Fingers And Whimpering” Cromwell.

At the same time, the premise was showing definite signs of fatigue by the end of the series’ eight-episode run, even with the complications of finding out what happened to Edward’s parents and the vagaries of the disparate personalities’ love lives. The last episode did end on a heck of a cliffhanger, though, and with Cromwell as a possible villain, My Own Worst Enemy could still have been going places.

The Verdict: I’ve said before that my goodwill can be bought with spy crap, and My Own Worst Enemy is a fun take on the genre. I’m not sure the main idea could have been taken much farther, but it would have been nice to see the show get a chance to try.

The entire series is available on DVD quite cheaply from Amazon. These promos are kind of bad, though.

 

Might go well with: Burn Notice; Carnivàle; a home-cooked meal.

 

Next time: The other white meat MacLeod.

 

There Can (Still!) Be Only Monday! Talking About Highlander…A Lot, Part 38

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Today we’ll take a brief look at the third…I mean, clearly the second movie in the series, Highlander: The Final Dimension. (Doubtless you’re thinking, “‘Final’? This isn’t even the penultimate movie!” You’d be correct. The whole franchise seems to have a real problem with the concept of finality, as the recent talk of a reboot only confirms.)

For this one, I’ll borrow a bit of the format from my Friday posts.

Known to casual observers as: Highlander: the one in which Mario van Peebles plays the Kurgan, sort of, and there’s some kinda kung fu, I guess?

The Premise: Connor must defeat some long-trapped immortals after an archaeological dig accidentally sets them free; it turns out the Highlander’s not The One after all. (Is there any way to fit that into continuity unless Connor had a psychotic break at the end of the first movie? Somewhere, the Kurgan is laughing, admittedly through a neck stump.)

Complicating this good-vs.-evil plot are a number of human factors, including Connor’s adopted son (Brenda has apparently died in a car crash), a cop who seems to be the official NYPD holder of the grudge against “Russell Nash,” and a beautiful archaeologist who is, shall we say, interested in old bones.

Did I mention the bad guy has magical illusion powers he got from killing one of Connor’s mentors? That too.

As I poke around the internet, I get the distinct impression that most people regard all the Highlander sequels as crap. There’s a certain amount of truth to that—I can’t say this is a particularly great movie even by Highlander standards—but Final Dimension does present some interesting features. The villain, Kane, is a blatant Kurgan ripoff on a scale I couldn’t exceed even if I were doing it myself, but at least he and his men are seen actually destroying a village at one point, and Kane’s illusion power makes the “put someone Connor loves in a car and terrorize them by driving like a maniac” sequence superior to the one in the original film. It’s also nice to see the franchise acknowledging its debt to martial-arts movies with Connor’s training in the initial flashback sequence. It also shines new light on…

The Connor problem: When I watched this again after starting to write these posts, Netflix threw up the Beowulf movie with Christopher Lambert as a recommendation, and I watched it. I’d always assumed part of Connor’s apparent ennui was due to some flaw in Christopher Lambert’s performance; while he’s not quite a ball of fire in Beowulf, it became clear that the anhedonia is endemic to the Highlander.

(I’d also like to put in a small plug for the 1999 Beowulf. It’s definitely a—whimsical?—take on the legend, but it’s a quite bearable little action flick with steampunk and demon ladies and Oliver Cotton, who was a barbarian king in Robin of Sherwood, as another one. It grows on you.)

The Verdict: I hate to say too many bad things about Final Dimension, as the film does try to address both some things I complained about in the original Highlander and the paradox of its own existence. I will say it’s probably for diehard fans only.

And my god, they use “O Fortuna” in the trailer!

Next time: I say nice things about Christian Slater.

Next time on TCBOM!: Still working on that audio, so it’ll probably be the TV series.