You can start thinking up excuses to tell the sheriff about where you found those body parts right now.  The Tomatometer is pinned to the right.

Orson Welles was an egomaniacal drama queen, you say? Whodathunk! A must-see flick for lovers of the old-timey B&W movies when radio was theater, theater was life and Hollywood was poised to conquer both. Set in the late 1930s when women wore skirts, men wore hats and everybody smoked indoors.

A Wheaties jingle, ukulele and matches figure prominently.

Cutesy period-piece euphemisms for courting and sex–

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It’s not the apocalypse we need to worry about–it’s the inevitable thereafter.

The Road is on its way–finally–to a theater near you (November 25th) and the expected debate after its limited prerelease via the film festival circuit is already topical and typical: Which is better? The book or the film? A predictable back-and-forth that momentarily ignores that each stands on its own merits; it’s the ages-old apples and oranges analogy. That said, it’s worth discussing what the marvel of celluloid has to offer a Pulitzer Prize-winning piece of literature written by a still-living legend.