We love magic. There
we said it. Sue us. We'll pretty much see anything with magic in
it; or even in its title. We bought a
gross of Magic Markers just because of the name.
(We also learned that while the fumes from one Magic Marker
may not be hazardous to your mental or physical health – the wafting aroma of
magic solvent from 144 uncapped Magic Markers will mess you up something
fierce.
We still have flash-backs and
disturbed dreams – we can't stop our paranoid delusions the story book
character, Harold of Harold and the Purple Crayon is stalking us. He hopes to draw the silhouette at the crime
scene of our cringing, lifeless body.
Plus, he doesn't really wear proper clothes and that scares us in and of
itself – we feared non-conforming clothes long before our experimental and
unintentional abuse of Magic Markers).
Whoa. Where did all
that come from. We were writing about
how much we loved magic and all things magic when, "Wham!" we're in
the midst of an Ibsen soliloquy of angst, regret, and fumes. Sorry.
Magic is what we love.
Right. Let's get on
with the story, then.
We had no intention of seeing Woody Allen's new film Scoop.
We knew nothing about the story line or plot. In fact we assumed it involved a newspaper
person or perhaps someone who diligently cleans up after her animal during dog
walks.
We were half right.
Scoop does involve a newspaper woman, Scarlett Johanson, but
just barely.
That is apparently the point of the movie. The stunning Ms. Johanson is a young
journalism student who is often barely clothed.
But there is magic involved.
She gets her biggest scoop (like Great Dane-sized) when she volunteers for a magician's
trick.
During the effect, she is visited by a gossiping spirit who
tells her the identity of Britian's "Tarot Card Killer."
She works with the magician played by Mr. Allen on the hunt
for the murderer.
Well, one thing leads to another, comedy ensues, the bad guy
keeps killing women, more laughs, jealousy is evidenced, some more gags, and
then it ends.
Not a lot of magic in the film. It is analogous to the amount of magic one
would find in Magic Markers. While Magic
Markers' fumes may intoxicate, it is the upper-torso of Ms. Johanson that does
the trick in this film.
Offered one cynical critic, Alex Sandell: “If you threw together Manhattan Murder
Mystery and The Curse of the Jade Scorpion and gave each film's leading lady
humungous boobs, you'd pretty much have Scoop.”
That's hardly high praise.
We searched the internet(s) for Mr. Sandell's critique of
Magic Markers or that little obsessive-compulsive, ugly-clothes-wearing,
stalking, graffiti-drawing, ambiguously-aged, linear-thinking, freak Harold or
his purple crayon of doom. So far no
luck. It could be Mr. Sandell hasn't
found time to review Harold and the Purple Crayon or maybe he too has been
threatened or intimidated by the spooky little deviant.
You can read a review of the reviews for
Scoop here.
Check out the outstanding official web
site for Scoop here.
We love magic. There
we said it. Sue us. We'll pretty much see anything with magic in
it; or even in its title. We bought a
gross of Magic Markers just because of the name.
(We also learned that while the fumes from one Magic Marker
may not be hazardous to your mental or physical health – the wafting aroma of
magic solvent from 144 uncapped Magic Markers will mess you up something
fierce.
We still have flash-backs and
disturbed dreams – we can't stop our paranoid delusions the story book
character, Harold of Harold and the Purple Crayon is stalking us. He hopes to draw the silhouette at the crime
scene of our cringing, lifeless body.
Plus, he doesn't really wear proper clothes and that scares us in and of
itself – we feared non-conforming clothes long before our experimental and
unintentional abuse of Magic Markers).
Whoa. Where did all
that come from. We were writing about
how much we loved magic and all things magic when, "Wham!" we're in
the midst of an Ibsen soliloquy of angst, regret, and fumes. Sorry.
Magic is what we love.
Right. Let's get on
with the story, then.
We had no intention of seeing Woody Allen's new film Scoop.
We knew nothing about the story line or plot. In fact we assumed it involved a newspaper
person or perhaps someone who diligently cleans up after her animal during dog
walks.
We were half right.
Scoop does involve a newspaper woman, Scarlett Johanson, but
just barely.
That is apparently the point of the movie. The stunning Ms. Johanson is a young
journalism student who is often barely clothed.
But there is magic involved.
She gets her biggest scoop (like Great Dane-sized) when she volunteers for a magician's
trick.
During the effect, she is visited by a gossiping spirit who
tells her the identity of Britian's "Tarot Card Killer."
She works with the magician played by Mr. Allen on the hunt
for the murderer.
Well, one thing leads to another, comedy ensues, the bad guy
keeps killing women, more laughs, jealousy is evidenced, some more gags, and
then it ends.
Not a lot of magic in the film. It is analogous to the amount of magic one
would find in Magic Markers. While Magic
Markers' fumes may intoxicate, it is the upper-torso of Ms. Johanson that does
the trick in this film.
Offered one cynical critic, Alex Sandell: “If you threw together Manhattan Murder
Mystery and The Curse of the Jade Scorpion and gave each film's leading lady
humungous boobs, you'd pretty much have Scoop.”
That's hardly high praise.
We searched the internet(s) for Mr. Sandell's critique of
Magic Markers or that little obsessive-compulsive, ugly-clothes-wearing,
stalking, graffiti-drawing, ambiguously-aged, linear-thinking, freak Harold or
his purple crayon of doom. So far no
luck. It could be Mr. Sandell hasn't
found time to review Harold and the Purple Crayon or maybe he too has been
threatened or intimidated by the spooky little deviant.
You can read a review of the reviews for
Scoop here.
Check out the outstanding official web
site for Scoop here.
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