that's like the pot calling the kettle really, really hot

In order to get my new job I have to pass a kind of comedy test. Which means, despite being in my AC-free, sauna of a bedroom with no one around, I am experiencing the most unpleasant ragingly scary level of stage fright.

Saw The Nines last night. Which is. Good. I heard it compared to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which, as dumbass Mancow Mueller would say, is like "comparing apples and grenades." Actually, it's like comparing an apple to a grenade painted to look like an apple. On the surface it looks like an apple, but you bite into it, and you die. I liked The Nines, particularly the bit about the koala bears, but I think the fact that the characters have trouble believing in themselves, which is part of the point of the story, actually makes it difficult for the viewer to do it, too. As a discussion of what a creator owes his creations, it's a little strained. A creator doesn't confuse himself for one of his creations, unless he's mentally ill... I don't know. The movie's worth seeing to take a gander at John's home, see Melissa McCarthy get a chance to lead a film and Ryan Reynolds prove himself to be a bit more worthy of his good fortune in the biz than I suspected, and some of the dialogue is really funny and/or poignant (Elle Fanning is cutely underacting and underwritten role and Hope Davis wigs me out). You won't be able to just yet unless you're in NY or LA. I recommend it over The Ten, but not over waiting until it's out on DVD.
Sorry, John. Still love your blog.

OK, now back to my hell.