Rosemary's Baby: The most terrifying thing about this movie is Mia Farrow. Those gangly prepubescent limbs sticking out from baby-doll dresses, the skipping little run she occasionally indulges in, that gaunt, starving face. She spooks me. Always has. According to director Roman Polanski, Farrow is an impressively instinctive actor. Or does he just mean 'creepily overdosed with wittle girl cuteness for a grown woman'.

Anyhow, Rosemary's Baby. I once described the book as 'Darning pillows, having sex with Satan, stitching curtains, having sex with Satan. Not enough sex with Satan, if you ask me. Too much *sewing*.'

Still, it remains a witty, paranoid film with classic 1968 fashions & lush 'kitchen sink' detailing. A quaint domestic drama with the lightest thread of pure darkness through it, the film has the ability to stick in the viewer's head long after. All good things.


Ghost Rider: The most terrifying thing about this move is Nicholas Cage. Nah, I'm just kidding. I'm a big Cage fan, though I haven't really followed his choices in recent years. He's been mixing up hero films with more 'meaningful' films, which is nice, but I miss the kind of unapologetic craziness he had in Face Off or Con Air. Ghost Rider is probably quite faithful to the comic (I get that feeling), & it's got a nice enough mix of characters -- though it feels like it doesn't invest too much in its narrative, using bold flags & terse explanations that feel like nothing more than filler -- but eh, I dunno, I guess I'm just not a fourteen-year-old boy anymore. Or indeed, ever.


Dusk til Dawn: I don't get it. Seriously. Not a Tarantino fan.


Babel: Didn't see it. Looked depressing. Was it depressing?