When you have to shoot, shoot; don't talk

And at the gate of the embassy
Our hands met through the bars
As your whisper stilled my heart:
No, they'll never catch me now

So I did go and see The Good, The Bad and The Ugly last night at the film club*.

Man oh man was that seven kinds of neat.

The excitement, the music, the editing, the characters (oh Alcoholic Union Captain, we hardly knew ye), THE COSTUMES (I was entertained by just how many different outfits they gave to Clint Eastwood; Just like leading ladies in thirties' musicals! "Mr. Eastwood's dresses designed by...")

I used to think I didn't like Westerns (but then again I was only familiar with the "black hat versus white hat, then showdown in Main Street" type) but I caught myself sitting on the edge of my seat grinning like an idiot again and again. And antiheroes are the best kind of heroes.

I am also slightly weirded out by just how much of a sexy hunk Clint Eastwood used to be. When he first came on I felt a stange desire to collapse into girly giggles by the mere sight of him.

Also this seems to be the only promo picture ever made for this movie:



Oh dear, I'm going to have to see A Fistful of Dollars aren't I? WHAT HAVE I STARTED


*Actually calling it "the film club" is simplifying the truth. Mostly I go to Cinemateket, a fairly low-budget place that screens old worn orginal reels of whatever people are keen to see. Bergen Film Club is another entity, showing newish movies in the city cinema. I'm glad we've sorted this out.

Picspam: Norwegian mountains

Or; Why I can't climb stairs today. Jesus Christ my legs are never going to work again.

Well, so yesterday I did my weekly hike up Fløyen and brought my camera along. Then I got lost and climbed another mountain, Blåmanen.

( The products of my pain )