true syrup

well now I been workin' on the particulars of .... hoik .... this one for a goodly while now. me and mr buttocks partook of this fable just this past weekend and, not to put too fine a point on it, the thing didn't take. it almost took, here and there, mostly in the general vicinity of mr bridges and a modicum in the vicinity of mr damon. but everwhere else the spielberg 'hollywood ending' sledge hammer was, essentially, rammed up our clackas, then twisted. waaaaay too much unprovoked shootery (as per betty's nod) and way too much sookery. my position, as it stands, is that I wanted to love it but found marself unable. mr buttocks put it this way "poor mans deadwood". while I don't hold with that viewpoint as such, it's clearly desperately derivative of same, but with none of the sublimely realised restraint. I blame the whole mess on spielberg, of course. the coens can do no wrong, after all.