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The Long Kiss Goodnight or why Hubby is on probation for his Netflix picks of late

For some reason Hubby has been nostalgically wasting our Netflix choices choosing older movies, some of which are enjoyable to watch (ie, The Milagro Beanfield War) but many of which are, just, What??? Why???

They were mediocre the first time, and years between first viewing and now aren't helping their quality even a little bit.

Last night, The Long Kiss Goodnight was added to the mediocre list. I never saw it the first time it came around, and am now wondering why on earth I sat through the entire thing after enjoying a perfectly wonderful dinner of grilled rosemary pork chops, a big salad with a citrusy dressing and avo, and a seasoned brown rice, all accompanied by a pretty good Merlot. (If you know me, you know I prefer cabs and deep zins. I just do, so whenever I talk about merlot I usually have a slightly strained look. I can't help it. )

I must have been languishing in a post-pork, post-Merlot stupor to have suppressed the urge to get up off the couch and find something to do in the back of the house.

But I watched.

Geena Davis in all her glory, well, played a pretty good confused psycho former counter assassin (what in the hell is that, by the way??). She also looked good as a long-tressed redhead or a bobbed blonde. Not everyone can pull that off.

Samuel L. Jackson played a former cop now con now scam artist (I think) with a good heart, sort of. He did a good job, he always does. He was convincing on some level, and funny on occasion, with very good timing with his delivery.

My favorite lines from the movie:

(Davis) Samantha Caine: What, are you a Mormon?
(Jackson) Mitch Henessey: Yes, I'm a Mormon. That's why I just smoked a pack of Newport and drank three vodka tonics.

I know. That was the best...which should tell you something about the entire script. 

The rest of the group...recognizable but not notable, did what they were supposed to do, but not well, and honestly, if any more cliches had been blended together with bad metaphors the soup that resulted would have resembled lentils at their very worst...

I give it a 3 (this week seems to be full of them), and I think Hubby owes me another evening. That's 2 so far this week, but he has that scared look on his face so I know he's going to queue up some newer romantic comedies to make up for his recent judgment lapses.
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