My sister, whose judgement is, in my opinion, second to none, tells me I put far too much pressure on friends, acquaintances and occasionally passing strangers by my enthusiasm for whatever book or movie or whatnot has grabbed my imagination. By recommending it so glowingly, I make it hard for the hapless enthusee to judge it on its own merits, as I have raised expectations so high, and of course really hard to tell me that they didn't like it all that much.
So when I discoverd to my horror that two friends of mine had never seen Singin' in the Rain I invited them over for supper and the movie. Because everyone should see this movie, it's an absolute cracker. Isn't it just? I braised a shoulder of lamb, and served it with rice and peas, with Luxemburgerli for afters.
Well. Rachael opined that Gene Kelly's outfits, with the wide trousers and high waistbands, and the shirtsleeves rolled up high and tight, made him look - well, gay. And Jill had spent the entire flick wondering why Kelly exhibited absolutely no VPL*, even though some of the dancing gets pretty athletic.
Did we just have a total bust of an evening? Have I just sent hours of my friends' lives down the tubes? But it's a terrific movie! How can anyone not like it!
After they left, I tidied up, and had a game of Scrabble with a woman born and raised in Cardiff, who currently lives in the Bahamas and owns the local radio station. She asked me to tune in, and what I wanted to hear, and blimey if a DJ half way across the world with the voice like chocolate didn't play It Never Rains in Southern California and dedicated it to li'l ol' ME! She also told me that, until he died, she was good friends with Count Basie who lived round the corner from her. COUNT BASIE! *lots of little squeeking noises!* Please please shoot me the day that I start finding this ordinary.
* Visible Panty Line