Tragic Film Festival

This weekend must have been one of the most miserable in home entertainment history.

It began on Thursday with Casino, then continued downward into Friday with The House of Sand and Fog (the most tragic film I've seen since Remains of the Day, which I refer to as "a slow fork in my heart.") and The Magdalene Sisters (faith-based social services my butt).

I tried to take a palette cleansing break with Win a Date with Tod Hamilton, but Ms. Bosworth's pluckless performance didn't help. (Perky is not enough.)

On Sunday night, I just happened to tune into none other than Touching the Void.

I enjoy cinematic suffering, but some directors go too far. I can take Scorcese. I can even do Todd Solondz. Lars von Trier, however, is beyond my threshold. I want to see suffering endured and overcome and suffering as the result of foolishness. Suffering celebrated for it's own sake usually just pisses me off.