Quiet afternoon here at the Hill household. I really should be doing some Work work, but it’s been really nice to laze about a bit.
So I threw in one of my favorite “comfort” movies (i.e., one which I can just watch and enjoy and not pay too much attention to), Die Hard.
The movie has an unjust reputation lumping it in with many of the bloated blow-em-ups of the 80s and 90s, but it’s really one of the Best of Breed. Plenty of blood, plenty of explosions, but also tight and taut and with just the right leavening of romance and camaraderie.
Bruce Willis does great job as an everyman hero, the “cowboy” pushed to his limits but still triumphant. And if it seems overkill to have obnoxious news reporters, obnoxious police chiefs and obnoxious FBI agents — then it’s worth it to see Alan Rickman at his scenery-chewing best as the head terrorist.
Indeed, it wasn’t until the very end — as paper is raining down around the building — that I suddenly remembered … wow. Terrorism. Exploding buildings.
I’m not supposed to enjoy movies like that any more. But I do.
Yippee-ki-yay …