Fascinoma

Went to see Wild Target last night, needing an antidote to late imperial decline, existential nausea, intimations of mortality et cetera. As one might suppose of a caper-comedy with Emily Blunt and Bill Nighy, the movie didn't have a brain in its head, and so it served the purpose admirably. Absolutely fabulous in its way. It went on precisely as long as it should have, had just enough violence and tons of Emily behaving badly (as she also did so deliciously in Sunshine Cleaning) in slinky clothes and best of all, no growing, no learning. My kinda film entertainment.