Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,
Jacqui
jacqui

I'm still in Palm Springs, watching Dr. T. and the Women. I didn't go to see it in the theatres, mainly because I had hated Robert Altman's fashion film, and the idea of Shelley Long, Helen Hunt, Farah Fawcett, and Richard Geer, in a film about a male gynecologist just kind of turned me off.

So far the opening is horrible. I'll check back in and let you know what I think when I'm through. I think it would be an actor's dream to work for Robert Altman, as opposed to say Woody Allen, who I've heard won't even speak to his actors for several days when they come on set.

This morning I started reading Heartbreak Hotel, which makes for a pretty weird juxtaposition with this movie.

I dreamt about my cats and my Grandmother and Mother and finding my Grannie's purse and looking through her old diary and her many pills.

What happened to Farrah Fawcett, she seemed so together for a time, and here she is playing insane, which doesn't seem like too much of a stretch, given the way she's been portrayed in the media; stealing things, fighting, saying strange things on David Letterman.

"Women are, by nature they are saints, they're divine and ought to be treated that way." Well, that sounded nice. And now we have Farrah removing all of her clothes and dancing in a fountain in front of a Lady Godiva shop. Hmmmm. Lee Grant, my personal career hero, yeay. Oh and Kate Hudson, she's interesting.

"Bla bla bla I like my women wet." Well, now that Helen Hunt has finally shown up, that'll change the weird tone of things. I went on an audition with her once, years ago. Well, at least these people are supposed to be wealthy, so if I ignore this Lyle Lovett, country instrumental background music, I can enjoy the sets and costumes.

Talk to you later,
Wacqui
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