Disappointment surely is a bitter swill that fills the mouth and forces you to spit or swallow.
Tonight, for me, it was Fame.
In long, it was humourless, no actors had any charisma, actoring talent or presence. The characters were dull, uninteresting and uninspiring. None of the teachers were marvellous. In fact they were all shit, Kelsey Grammer and that nasal woman included.
I found it insufferable, tedious and grim.
They'd changed the names. In this day and age, clearly, there can be no black character called Coco. Oh no no no. And Bruno? That's too old-time-Italo-ethnic. Let's make him Carlo, because the Hispanics came after the Italians, swarmed into the great melting pot that is America.
Fuck that. He should have been called Hussein.
Oh, but wait. There was a Malik - a black dude. To me it's a good Muslim name, but there was no reference to religion. He was a rapper/actor with anger issues about his dead sister, shot at 11 in a drive-by.
Oh cliche-ridden piece of shit that you were, Fame.
I turned to my daughters carefully as the credits were rolling afterwards. I waited until they told me what they thought. Great, good, I liked it. I held my tongue until I was pushed to say what I thought.
"My one was better, I thought, the old one. But it was from my time."
They nodded at that. They understood. I am an old dag, and I can't appreciate that wonderful movie that unfolded in front of them.
"I remember the old one being funnier. It was heavy in parts, but there was also lightness and joy. This one was just so serious for most of it."
"Didn't you think?"
Then Princess said, "But they were under so much pressure. Of course it's going to be serious."
'Yeah," I said. Wanting to let them have their Fame.
But they don't know what they missed out on.
This for one: