Last night we watched An American Werewolf in London. The year after it came out, I watched it on cable umpteen million times. I really loved that movie.
Watching it last night, I remembered why I enjoyed it so much. David Naughton and Griffin Dunne are just perfect young American guys touring Europe for the first time, seeing the sights and looking for some action. Things get wierd when they stop in the Pub, the Slaughtered Lamb, which is not a very welcoming place. So off they go into the night. Why David's character decided they need to start their trip in northern England makes for a bit of jovial ribbing as they wander the moors in the rain, singing and talking until a very strange howl rips through the air. As for the rest, I'll leave it to you to watch the film.
At the time, the special effects were very amazing. David's transformation into a werewolf had us both still glued to the screen last night (I stopped knitting to watch it). And what can I say about Jack's (Griffin) later appearances in the movie? Let's just say if I need to hang around with a corpse in speed decay, he'd be it. He may be dead, but he still has his sense of humor.
Oh wait! This is where I probably need to say Happy Valentine's Day! Ah yes, a day of rampant commercialism in which we are subjected to a plethora of shiny red foil hearts and oversized stuffed bears. I'm not sure when we quit observing it, but Keith and I have ignored it for years. What comes to mind when I think about Valentine's Day? If memory serves, it is the beginning of the episode where Homer becomes Sanitation Commisioner after he insults the guys who pick up the trash. Who can forget Rod and Todd climbing Diaper Mountain?
Please forgive my cynicism and enjoy Valentine's Day if it pleases you to do so. I've got sock knitting students awaiting me shortly, so I'm off for now.