Drive
I mean, I don’t think there’s anything I rather do than drive around the hills at night blasting pop music and crying watching movies while developing a script with these two.
Nice work, Vulture.
PS: Drive was AMAZING. I’d watch that same character in a couple more movies. (Hear that, RyGos & Refn?)
Because I woke up this morning and promptly scored 2 free tickets to an advance screening of The Gos’ new movie Drive tomorrow night. CAN.NOT. WAIT.
Who cares that I’m catching a cold? Not me.
Currently rewatching Blue Valentine.
It says a lot that a movie with a dead dog and a near aborsh is still one of my faves because of RyGos. Mofo was robbed of that Oscar. The bit where he is undoing her blouse and asks “what kind of operation are you running here” is almost as hot as the scene where he goes downtown.
Michelle Williams is great, but I’ll forever be mad that she didn’t enjoy boffing The Gos in a room with Star Trekky panels. (Anybody else wonder if Cindy & Dean might have made it if they’d only chosen Cupid’s Cove instead of the Future Room?)
I was all set to do a clever post about RyGos in direct homage to this adorableness from Grambo, but somewhere between the creases in the brow and the pants I realized that would not be happening, but other, more loin-based things would. I’m just gonna roll with it.
OH FUCK, I JUST PICTURED HIS FINE CANADIAN ASS IN A CANUCKS JERSEY…