"The Son" comments by Andy

I've got to say, with all-due respect and deference to my distinguished colleague Jason, this was a great movie, and I wouldn't change anything about it. I will say that I approached the film with the huge benefit of having read Jason's review, and it certainly made it more tolerable than it would have been otherwise. It was nice to know ahead of time that the film would be slow and simple. I am proud to say it only took me two sessions to finish the film. You watch the film as though you were a fly on the wall, not listening to someone tell a story.

"The Son" is easily the most "real" film I've ever seen. My wife (Shawn) and I discussed this film in depth and I think we agree. There was nothing contrived about the film. Most films require complex dialogue, plot twists, and quick edits to keep us entertained and the story believable and tolerable. And frankly I'm glad that not every film is like "The Son" because films would be arduous to watch and not fun. But every once in a while, watching a "real" film is just what I need. "The Son" was such a movie.

Where I think Jason and I disagree is on the fundamental construction of the movie. Yes, you could tell the same story in about 30 minutes, but I think it is the length of the shots and the slow pace of the story that makes the film so believable. The story had a very realistic intensity that could not be sustained if the shots were not so long.

And, at the end, I appreciated the absolute simplicity of the story. I know we give spoiler alerts, but for the sake of not ruining anyone else's film viewing, I won't discuss the issue of the movie, but I loved it. It is true drama. It touched a cord with me like few movies have.

"The Son"'s beauty is in it's understatement and simplicity. I wouldn't change a thing.

comments by Andy

Up Too Close and Personal

by Jason Pyles

In his review of “The Son,” esteemed film scholar and critic Stanley Kauffmann, of The New Republic, said “... both times (I saw ‘The Son’), I felt that I was in the presence of a work that is larger and more deeply roiling than we are usually prepared for in a film.” In another review, he described this film as “... magnificently simple and large ...”

Roger Ebert raved about “The Son,” calling it “a great film.” In fact, in his review he wrote: “... go see the film. Walk out of the house today, tonight, and see it, if you are open to simplicity, depth, maturity, silence, in a film that sounds in the echo chambers of the heart. ... If you find you cannot respond to it, that is the degree to which you have room to grow. ... I grew during this film. It taught me things about the cinema I did not know.”

The New York Times’ A.O. Scott said “The Son” has “devastating power.” He also wrote, “To call ‘The Son’ a masterpiece would be to insult its modesty. Like the homely useful boxes Olivier teaches his prodigals to build, it is sturdy, durable and, in its downcast, unobtrusive way, miraculous.”

The three critics quoted above are all greater than I. Also, I will be the first to confess that I have much to learn about the cinema, or as Ebert puts it, I have “room to grow.” Having said that, I think “The Son” is mostly irritating, slow and therefore boring, and a bit lean in its story. No, not all cinema should be entertaining or formulaic (“The Son” is neither), but its simplicity approaches a dullness comparable to my workplace's safety training videos.

Specifically, what drove me nuts is the way the camera piggy-backs over Olivier’s shoulder through most of the film. I’m fine with wobbly, hand-held camerawork, but it was the perpetual close-ups and medium shots that literally made me keep scooting back from the screen, so I could get some distance between the actor and me, in hopes of gaining some perspective.

I watched the entire film closely (I had no choice!) to see why the directors Dardenne chose to photograph their principal actor in this claustrophobic way. After all, films tell their stories with more than just the script: editing, cinematography, sound — and basically every other element usually contributes to making the narrative materialize before us, so I suspected they had a reason for this pervasively noticeable stylistic choice. The best I could come up with was the close camera (which witnesses Olivier’s troubled nature), symbolizes how his burdensome knowledge was a “monkey on his back.” After the scuffle in the woods when the unlikely pair load the wood together in the final scene, the camera finally backs off a little, as if to suggest that Olivier is now free from the information he was harboring.

The film is painfully slow. Some films’ slow pacing assists in conveying their narratives, as I mentioned above. “Cast Away” is a great example of this: It is slow — of necessity — to help give us a sense of Tom Hanks’ long passage of time on the deserted island. But “The Son” is not only needlessly slow, it doesn’t seem to care if we’re watching or not. Case in point: At one point we see Olivier begin to put on his back-support belt, but before we get the thrilling opportunity to watch him put it on, Olivier is partially out of the frame, off screen, so we just have to wait for him, without getting to at least see the belt sequence, which is better than watching nothing.

I admire the naturalistic performances. The cast members seem more like regular people in a documentary than actors in a screenplay. Also, I like how the Dardenne brothers wrote their story with credible developments and outcomes, rather than resorting to ramped-up drama like the material we’d expect to see in an artificial (albeit entertaining) Hollywood flick.

Yes, there is finally some degree of power within “The Son,” but it’s like cracking the shells of pistachios to get the nut — or sucking on rib bones to get a little meat: There’s eventually a good morsel, but it’s not really worth all the work to get to it. Put another way, “The Son” would have worked much better as a short film.

"Diving Bell and the Butterfly," thoughts by Andy

Let me start off by saying that I do not particularly care for movies that glorify cheating, or movies whose main character is a cheater. That said, I especially don't like such movies when the cheater cheats on someone with whom I cannot somehow find fault. What I'm getting at is that I did not care much for our "hero" in this film. I'm far less impressed with Bauby than my distinguished colleague.

Yes, it is incredible that someone wrote such an apparently powerful autobiography after being totally paralyzed. That fact is not lost on me. Before grad school, I worked in a hospital as a nursing assistant. I have taken care of many patients with varying mobilities. I've seen people struggle through rehab. I've even seen people make incredible changes in their lives after suffering a tragic accident or trial. The idea is not lost on me that someone can advance beyond oneself even when physical limitations are acutely present. I know about a young girl who raised funds for cancer research when she herself was dying. I'm aware of a guy who thrice tried to kill himself, and in so doing lost his sight, hearing, and horribly disfigured his face, and now he write inspirational books and has a well followed lecture circuit. I personally know of many teenagers who have answered the call at home and raise younger siblings or get jobs after school to help out with family bills. I get it. He blinked out a book. It is incredible. For that single accomplishment, I am inspired and in awe.

Bauby's a jerk though. And for that reason, I have a hard time feeling so inspired by his story. I don't care how remarkable you are, when your wife (ex?) comes to visit you in the hospital, and she's the only family you've got that comes to visit, and she brings your children so they can continue a relationship with you, and you take a phone call from your girlfriend that your wife has to translate where you tell your girlfriend through your wife "I wait everyday to see you," you are a schmuck. And yes, I know the previous sentence ran-on and was almost intelligible. I don't care that I don't pen a great tome like Bauby, and it's unlikely that I'm going to ever write a book. But I've never done that, and I'm pretty sure that alone makes me a better person that Bauby. I've done some bad things in my life, and I am certainly not a perfect person, but come-on.

He did an incredible thing by writing that book (although what else was he going to do - let's give a ton of credit to his help). But that to me is all that should be celebrated in his life - at least as far as he is depicted in the movie. Beyond the novel, he was a jerk to his wife and even his girlfriend, and if the movie is accurate, a total pig.

comments by Andy

In the Blink of an Eye

by Jason Pyles

I am writing a book, which I note here only to assert that it’s an even more laborious endeavor than one might suspect. While writing a book is an appreciable feat, writing a book in the manner Jean-Dominique Bauby did is inconceivable.

“The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” is a gem of a film about an unbelievable story: After suffering a stroke, a man is paralyzed and can only communicate through blinking his left eye — the means by which he painstakingly “writes” a book, letter by letter, with some long-suffering assistance.

This film already has been cited as a testament to the unconquerable nature of the human spirit. No doubt this story is a boon for inspirational speakers.

But Bauby’s achievement most effectively illustrates the power of incrementalism and what can be accomplished through self-discipline and determination — which is, to me, the real value behind “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.” I’m increasingly convinced that with enough discipline and desire, one can pull off just about anything — even seemingly impossible tasks. Bauby’s literary victory seems to support this notion.

So the real question becomes, what do we — the spectators — do with such a film?

For instance, Michael Bay movies have two purposes: make money and entertain, in that order. A film like “Schindler’s List” (1993) may have more complex designs, such as enlightening, educating, etc., but what is the purpose and utility of “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly”? Is it solely to inspire us — or are there loftier, grander goals? What good is an incredible story if it doesn’t inspire us to act?

Neither the film nor its makers are wholly responsible for our decision to engage ourselves with their creation: Indeed, movies can only change the lives of those who empower them to do so. If we choose not to learn or change after having watched such a saga, then we allow this true tale to be relegated to mere entertainment. And that’s fine, I suppose, but it’s our loss.

Relatively few are the films that possess the potency to influence us to truly change, and “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” is one such example.

As for me, I’m using it as encouragement to finish my book. After all, if Bauby can write a book with his unlikely method, I can surely complete mine using conveniently conventional means.

"In Bruges with the Brothers Bloom" thoughts by Andy

Can someone tell me - are the Bloom Brothers, as the title suggests, given the last name of Bloom? If so, is Brody's character Bloom Bloom? If not, why is the movie called "The Brothers Bloom?" This is just one of the many things that bothered me about the movie. And I really tried to think it was masterful; as Jason wrote, I really liked Rian Johnson's movie "Brick."

"The Brothers Bloom" was a fun movie. I liked it just fine. I didn't think it was super intelligent though, as I did "Brick." The dialog was excellent, but the story was kind of stupid and unbelievable. There were a handful of really ridiculous assumptions that I was asked to make to believe the film that I just couldn't accept. First - if Penelope is so incredibly talented at so many different things, why does she keep crashing her Lamborghini into stuff? You'd think she could learn how to drive a stick if she can juggle chainsaws on a unicycle and flip-kick a skateboard. It seems her character development was flawed. I accept that she was eccentric, but was she an idiot-savant, stupid, or gifted and driven?

Next - if Boom Boom was such a great demo expert, how does she leave a brick of nitro in a backpack? And exactly how did Penelope talk herself out of trouble with the Po Po? Then, why did Stephen use the one-eyed Russian if there was such bad blood? And who gets shot in the side (a mortal wound I might add), and then leaps to his feet and pretends it was all part of a "con?"

I love crime capers, con men stories, and all sorts of thieving yarns, but I just saw too many plot problems with this movie. Come on Rian ---- these were fairly simple fixes too.

On to "In Bruges." I confess, my main motivation for watching this film a few months ago was to see Bruges before traveling there to see it for myself. It's an exceptionally well preserved medieval town in Belgium, and I can't believe I'd never heard of it before this movie came out.

The highlights of "In Bruges" would all have to be focused on the exceptionally funny and witty dialog of Ray. I am not a huge fan of Colin Farrell, and not for reasons that you'd think (my wife doesn't care for him either, so it's not that reason). I really just haven't felt inspired by any movies he's been in. I always assumed he got his roles based on his looks (he is plenty handsome), and his prominent movies are totally forgettable - "The Recruit," "Phonebooth," and "Swat." This movies was different. His character was incredibly funny, and his lines were intricut and his timing perfect. As much fun as he pokes at Bruges, I wonder if the city officials regretted allowing the project access to the city....

My complaint of the movie is simply this - can't we do some more killing already???? Don't give me an assassin movie where a total of four people die. I want to see some skill - necks slit open, .22 shots through pillows with people sleeping unawares next door, chloraformed guards and black ninja suits. Don't give me freaking scenes of Bruges... Where's the blood?

The assignment from the boss man (who can actually write worth a damn, unlike me), was more of a comparison/contrast of these two films.

Here goes - both crime capers had decent dialog, but "In Bruges" was much better. Both had plot problems, but for totally different reasons. "In Bruges" was far too simple, and slow, and "The Brothers Bloom" was too complicated and unrealistic. Somewhere in the middle would be better for both films.

comments by Andy

“In Bruges” and “The Brothers Bloom”

by Jason Pyles

“In Bruges” and “The Brothers Bloom” are both comedies about professional, criminal duos. And both films present a pensive, prominent theme of a youthful life not lived. As is typical with this film discussion site, spoilers follow for both films:

Colin Farrell’s Ray character in “In Bruges” accidentally kills a boy during his new line of work as a hitman, and the premature extinguishing of that little life haunts and harrows the killer’s thoughts. A life was senselessly robbed by his being a criminal.

Compare this with how Adrien Brody’s Bloom character in “The Brothers Bloom” complains that his personal identity and existence never were permitted because he was always playing some role in his brother’s schemes. Another life senselessly robbed by the choice to be a criminal.

Comedy is closely linked with tragedy, which seems counter-intuitive, I know, but it’s been that way at least since Shakespeare, probably earlier. Though both films are mostly light-hearted comedies, the sad theme described above amounts to fairly weighty emotional baggage. If you think about the murder of a child or the theft of a childhood for very long, you’ll quickly realize that these are terribly heavy anchors to risk installing on such comedic ships.

But because these risks were taken — and well executed — both films work extremely well as comedies, and are all the better for it. Both movies have enjoyed warm receptions, critically and in the mainstream viewership, but I’d still have to choose sides and say, of the two, “In Bruges” is the better film.

“In Bruges” is ferocious in its descent into increasingly intense violence, which culminates with a pay-off that’s remarkably amusing (despite its darkness), especially considering that it’s tied to the boy’s murder discussed above. What I’m referring to is when the savage but principled Ralph Fiennes character, Harry, admits earlier in the film that if he killed a child, he would immediately turn the gun on himself. Then, at the end of the movie, when he unintentionally kills a dwarf that he thinks was a child, his prior claim is proven with exactness. That’s kind of funny in the moment, yes? But isn’t it bizarre when we recall that this humorous event is actually built upon the tragic incident of a murdered boy? Amazing. The risk is great, and so is the reward.

A side note: I couldn’t help but suspect that the quirky, fast-paced dialogue from “In Bruges” is inspired by Tarantino’s writing.

Now then, I’ve heard many rave reviews of “The Brothers Bloom.” Though I liked it just fine, I don’t think it’s anything overly special. I felt the same about “Brick” (also written and directed by Rian Johnson), but my colleague, Andy, loves that movie. My chief criticism of “The Brothers Bloom” is a nitpicky one that I also have with many con-man and megalomaniac, serial killer movies: The insanely intricate, excessively extravagant plans that were somehow devised and put into action by the con-genius or lunatic always seem to unfold perfectly. I guess this bothers me because anyone who’s ever tried planning a wedding, for instance, knows that no matter how carefully you plan, something always goes awry.

And so, yes, though the cons in “The Brothers Bloom” are entertaining and seem to be brilliant, let’s just remember that they are the epitome of contrivance. And precisely because it’s a con-man movie, we know that there will be tons of twists and turns, especially with the final con. And thus it is.

Oh, and one more complaint: Adrien Brody is an exceptional actor (see “The Village”), but I like him least when he is brooding, as in this film or “King Kong” (2005).

Putting the pettiness aside, “The Brothers Bloom” is quite clever in its misdirection of our attention. It doesn’t cash in as much on the young-life-lost theme as does “In Bruges,” but I guess it doesn’t need to, because Bloom eventually escapes his brother’s life-stealing scripts and gets the girl, too. “In Bruges” resolves said theme by removing “the bad guy” (Fiennes) with it, and “The Brothers Bloom” brings closure to the life-lost theme by restoring the life in question.

Regarding "Southland Tales"

by Jason Pyles

Of the two writers actively contributing to this site, I must humbly defer to Andy for any substantial thoughts about “Southland Tales.” His apparent understanding and explanation of this film eclipse mine.

Nevertheless, I’ve endeavored to write something coherent, which is more than I can say for Richard Kelly, the writer-director of “Southland Tales.”

Begin Prelude:

Narrative cinema strikes an ever-present, ever-changing, three-way balance when it comes to a film being a so-called work of art, a business venture and escapist entertainment — all of which vary with each individual film project.

Typically a commercial film will be produced with heavy considerations toward its business investment, which is only enhanced more favorably, the more entertaining it is. (Word-of-mouth buzz works — just look at the current, blossoming success of “Paranormal Activity.”) Widespread appeal is always profitable, though the same cannot always be said of ambitious works of art.

I won’t attempt to define a “work of art” here, but for brevity’s sake, let’s just say it’s a creation valued by its creator and potentially by others. Some works of art require open-mindedness and in-depth consideration. These types are prized for their innovative, gadfly-coerced growth for the human mind.

Other works of art are simply the artist’s runaway flights of fancy, and are only considered valuable art for art’s sake. (We’ve all seen a pile of garbage glued together in a museum that someone has declared art. This reminds me of the way we must endure ignorant hate speech in order to preserve “freedom of speech.” Anyway, one man’s junk is another man’s art.)

End Prelude:

For “Southland Tales,” I believe Richard Kelly had some noteworthy ideas he wanted to convey to our post-9/11 society, but he obviously succumbed to the latter description above, thereby failing to challenge us with epiphany-yielding concepts or concise cinematic statements in order to indulge his own tangential shenanigans and definition of appealing entertainment.

In other words, a much simpler way to restate all of the above is this: Richard Kelly alienates — and therefore, loses — his audience, which cost him an intelligible, halfway decent film. I’m not saying every viewer will be completely lost — nor am I saying I was altogether at sea. To conclude this point, I must admit that I could probably be fairer by viewing the film a second time, but I just don’t know that I could make myself sit through it again. And to discredit myself further, in full disclosure, I never was a fan of political films, generally speaking — and as Andy notes below, this movie targets myriad political topics.

Yes, “Southland Tales” is colorful and visually stimulating. It even has moments of intriguing peculiarity, such as Justin Timberlake’s musical number or the talk-show hosted by porn stars (was that mocking “The View”?).

But I must disagree with Andy on one point, and that’s Dwayne Johnson’s performance. I just haven’t been convinced that he has much acting talent (though he has undeniable screen presence). Sure, I never held him too accountable for movies like “The Scorpion King” (2002), which is nearly unwatchable, but the best he’s done have been “The Rundown” (2003) and “Walking Tall” (2004).

No, I wouldn’t call “Southland Tales” a terrible film; it’s just an inaccessible one whose joys are limited.

Southland Tales - comments by Andy

Hmm....I really tried to like "Southland Tales." I really, really did. It had a terrific and deep cast, and a huge one at that. The acting was great - Dwayne Johnson did a great job at a neurotic scion of sorts. The film was also visually stunning. And it was long enough to get even a long and complicated story told (2:20 ish).

Can someone explain the plot? I think I understand the underlying issues and arcs - the world is in chaos after nuclear attacks on the US plunge the war into WWIII. The Patriot Act in the film mimics the real act but on steroids. Big Brother is alive and well in full Orwellian glory. And there's some sci-fi stuff too - apparently there's a new energy source that is poised to obviate any need for other types of energy, but it's a cancer on the earth's rotation (slowing it down).

Here's where it gets weird. The new energy source slows the earth's rotation and rips the time-space continuum. A couple of characters travel through the rip (for reasons I don't understand and are not adequately explained), but there's some new drug that causes the characters to forget whatever it is they are involved in, and why they are involved. Oh, and it's an election year, so all of the characters belonging to the underground neo-marxist movement are trying to disrupt the conservatives who are currently in power (and not willing to give up control any time soon),

And confusion ensues. I guess that if one character who has gone through the rip meets himself, the world is destroyed???? I couldn't quite figure it out. It wasn't instantaneous.

And I can't figure out who won, ultimately. The republicans killed most of the neo-marxists, and the rest were apparently blown up along with all the major republican players in the zeplin explosion. I don't quite get it. Fascinating, but confusing as hell.

I tried to get the back story to see if someone had the ability to explain it to me, but I didn't find it readily. What I did find were reviews similar in feeling to mine. Although some critics enjoyed the film, most did not. The film was a huge financial disaster too (generating a few hundred thousand but costing upwards of 17 million). I doubt it will have the cult following that "Donnie Darko" has.

I really did try to like the film though.

by Andy

Sometimes a Vamp's got to feed...

Wow. What a fantastic movie!!!! I watched it in Swedish with English subtitles, which didn't make my little brother too happy, but I liked hearing the acting. And it was superb.

I wasn't as upset about the cat scene as Jason was. I always root for the cats...and seeing several felines attacking the crap out of a new vamp was awesome. I enjoyed the movie for the story, not necessarily the effects. They obviously weren't trying to hard to make it a slasher flick as evidenced by the fact that the "father" obscured the victim when he slit his throat.

But sometimes it pays to have a vamp friend. I tend to root for the underdog, and seeing the bullies get their come-upins makes my heart warm all over. I had to watch the pool scene a couple of times to see if the fat kid got his too, but it looks as though he did not. I didn't see any blood, and I think he was moving. Too bad.

I think Jason covered everything else, but I loved the obvious perpetuation of the story. How many humans does a vamp go through before someone puts a stake in its heart? That was the intriguing part of the story for me: realizing at the end that the "father" started out just like Oskar. I wonder if Oskar knew it? I doubt it, although he picked up on Eli vampireness right away, so he's not a total lush.

thoughts by Andy

Let the Right One Remain the Only Right One

by Jason Pyles

Vampires are an endlessly intriguing concept that have always been conducive to the cinema, even in the silent film era. Supposedly debuting in the cinematic medium in 1909 (though I’m not positive about this) was “Vampire of the Coast,” that is, according to Wikipedia. Arguably, the earliest vampire flick that has been widely seen and is fairly well known is the creepy German silent, “Nosferatu” (1922), directed by F.W. Murnau. It is a must-see for vampire lovers.

These scary beings have become their own horror subgenre whose conventions are familiar to just about everyone. Therefore, when we receive a fresh, new spin on vampires, such as “Cronos” (1993) or “Let the Right One In,” we should be grateful for such dark and lovely gifts.

I remember when I first watched Guillermo del Toro’s “Cronos.” I knew nothing about it — not even that it was a vampire movie, which was not really a secret. But still, I went in with a blank slate and didn’t realize it was technically a vampire movie until about halfway through. For me that fact alone makes “Cronos” something special.

Speaking of special, it’s difficult to discuss “Let the Right One In” without solely recounting a handful of remarkable, unforgettable scenes. Aside from one baffling exception, every visual aspect to “Let the Right One In” is stunning, from its photography, to its casting, to its production design, to its settings, to its lighting. The look of this film is not only beautiful; it also evokes a time and place in space. Watching it, I was a little uneasy, because I was convinced that Eli and her world coexist in mine.

Obviously, the disappointing exception, visually speaking, is the terribly silly-looking cat-attack scene. Not only do the cats look fake, when they gather upon the tortured new vampire lady as she is fleeing, they’re obviously just fluffy and unconvincing props, attached to her clothing, producing the look of a comedic scenario from the “Scary Movie” franchise. This scene is a real chink in the film’s armor.

But it’s nearly forgotten altogether with the very convincing portrayal of the chilling pool scene, a sequence the director, Tomas Alfredson, said in an interview took months to execute correctly. Also, when Eli’s “father” or caretaker dies, that scene looks alarmingly real.

As I mentioned, it’s tough to get beyond mere description, because the film’s delivery is so affecting. In short, I love our simultaneous affection and fear of Eli: She’s mostly sweet and endearing but at times utterly horrifying. You know a film is successful when it can evoke such a paradox from a 12-year-old girl.

A Seriously Long But Related Tangent:

Now, I’ve recently learned from my favorite guys at The /Filmcast (the official podcast of SlashFilm.com) that “Let the Right One In” is inexplicably going to be remade, which to me, is like trying to repaint the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling — it’s pointless and unneeded.

When something is done right the first time, perhaps it should just be left alone. Naturally, the previous sentence smacks in the face of scientific progress, so there are exceptions, but “Let the Right One In” was just done in 2008, and it was done right.

The new version will be made by Overture Films and stars Kodi Smitt McPhee, Chloe Moretz and Richard Jenkins. It’s supposed to start shooting next month, according to SlashFilm.com. No doubt this remake has to do with “Americanizing” a foreign film that many people (like my friends to whom I have tried to recommend this movie) will pass up because it’s subtitled or dubbed. But just saying it’s “a Swedish vampire film” sounds cool enough on its own, even without it being a refreshing, unsettling entry to the genre.

If history repeats itself (and it does), this may end up ugly, much like the Americanization — aka bastardization, in this case — of the chilling Dutch/French film “Spoorloos” or “The Vanishing” (1988). Its ending is truly upsetting and perfect, but when it was remade here in the United States in 1993, starring Jeff Bridges and Kiefer Sutherland, the ending was changed altogether, an act that was nothing less than a screenplay abomination. (I couldn’t help but think of the ending of the film that is finally made in Tim Robbins’ “The Player.”) As a result, countless Americans will have seen the dumb remake of “The Vanishing” and will never check out the superior Dutch version.

I’m afraid the same thing will happen with “Let the Right One In.” Maybe I’ll be proven wrong and have to eat my words — I hope so — but I think we should let Alfredson’s “right one” remain the only right one. If they must try to reboot it, they should wait at least 10 years, so people like me can have time to try to talk people like my friends into seeing the Swedish version.