T w e n t y S i d e d
The waiter staggers over with a dinnerplate the size of a hubcap, loaded with food. He has to use both hands to hold it level, and while he’s trying to maintain his effete demenor you can tell he’s straining from the effort. It hits the table with a solid thud. The salt shaker nearly topples over from the seismic disturbance. He bows slightly, and leaves you to your meal.
It’s incredible. The flavor is fantastic. The texture is perfect. You have no idea if you can eat it all, but once you’ve had a bit you’re willing to give it a try. Halfway through the mountain of food you know you’re full, but you keep at it. At three-quarters of the way down your pants no longer fit and you have to adjust your position in your chair. Your eyes start to water. By four-fifths your progress slows because your body refuses to salivate. At this point you’ve forgotten what the food tastes like; you’re just shoveling now. By the time you can see the plate it’s hard to breathe. The last few bites sit in your mouth for a while before you can summon the will to swallow them.
Someone clears their throat nearby. Your head is swimming. Slowly you turn sideways to see who it is.
The waiter gives you a polite smile as he lifts the plate away, “Very good, sir. Ready for the second course?”
I just watched the first third of King Kong.
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I’d say that was my main problem with the remake. Well done, exciting, good characters and so on, but just way, way, way too long.
The art of the ninety-minute movie is long-lost.
Well, if you’re at all squeamish, the second third of that movie will empty the contents of your over-stuffed gullet in a hurry….
Not all the second third, actually. I am a little squeamish, but I’m fine if I just jump over the one chapter with the insect stuff. The T-Rexes were downright charismatic by comparison; I especially liked how they all had different facial expressions, teeth and so on. Individuals. I missed that sort of thing in Jurassic Park.
Oops. Just got into trouble for laughing too loud and waking the kid. Damned fine description, Shamus. One would almost think you were watching me eat at Landry’s in St Louis…
That’s Peter Jackson for you. I thought King Kong was pretty good, and your analogy is wonderful.