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Man, I can't wait 'til I'm 70 and get to hang around with a rangy Welsh dancer/actress barely a third my age, knock over banks and art galleries, pilot my helicopter to my Scottish castle, dress to the nines with said wench on my arm for a Christmas ball at some other castle just to make fun of the flatware, have Ving Rhames do all my errands… (Now there's a guy you can bet won't get the run-around when he goes to pickup your tux from the dry cleaners. None of this "Yes, we know it's Tuesday and we said it would be ready today but there was a cock-up with the carbon tet bath blah, blah, blah." One helix-straightening scowl from Ving and they'd be squeezing the silkworms for a new cummerbund on the spot.) Shucks, looks to me like Sean Connery has done pretty well by the British welfare state. I wonder what I need to do to transfer my citizenship?
I mean, Sean is so cool he can spend two hours orderin' Catherine Zeta-Jones up one side and down the other, callin' her "Zayta" instead of "Zeeta" if he wants, tellin' her to climb this an' swim that an' squirm blindfolded like Zorro all around these an' even slap her a little when he thinks she's jerkin' him around and not once lookin' believably like he even wants to sleep with her or her $8 billion cuz he is The Man and if he'd rather walk through a big-budget movie in his sleep after putting in a real performance in a little movie like Playing By Heart where he probably didn't even get a big enough check to pay for the annual inspection on his helicopter but simply wanted to give the 12 other actors he shared equal screen time with the chance to worship the very glare off his scalp -- and you know they did -- then that's okay by me. He probably did this new movie Entrapment only because he wanted to spend the Millennium Eve countdown in Malaysia swingin' like a stripe-assed ape between the two tallest buildings in the world, then donate his remuneration to pay off the national debt of Iceland or sumsuch as he is wont to do, because it would make a killer story over darts and ale at the pub.
Plot? We doan' need no steenkeeng plot. A plot would just get in the way. What do you think this is, a book? Forget dialogue, too; Sean can get away with sayin' crap like "First we try; then we trust" because it's nuthin' but narration for what looks like Zeeta's audition tape for a Chorus Line revival anyway…which this unabashed Y-chrome would be first in line for.
You wanna see chemistry, go buy a lava lamp. C-
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