Do NOT…go in there. Typically, my taste in movies falls under the category of one or all of the three D’s — dark, disturbing, and/or dystopian, so I rarely watch comedies, but I loved Ace Ventura, Pet Detective. The first scene in which the landlord grills him about having pets in his apartment and then after the landlord leaves, all the animals come crawling, hopping, and flying out of every cupboard and drawer had me by my aging ovaries and from there, the film never let go. But that’s probably because I have the emotional maturity and the palette of a bar mitzvah boy.

Train to Busan — I thought the zombie genre was maxed out as well, but I recently added this film to my queue.

The Talented Mr. Ripley is one of those movies I can watch and have watched a bunch of times. Papillon is another one. I’m talking about the original Papillon that came out in the 70’s starring Steve McQueen and Dustin Hoffman, not the more recent remake with Rami Malek that was just kind of meh. The other day while totally zoning out somewhere between my kitchen and living room on day 46 of quarantine, I found myself thinking about what would have become of Marge & Dickie had Tom not bludgeoned Dickie to death on that small boat in San Remo. I imagined Dickie would have eventually gotten bored of the bohemian rebellion phase of his life. He and Marge would get married and live in the burbs outside the city. Dickie would join the family business. They would have three children. An aging, balding Dickie would have affairs, gain weight, chain-smoke and drink too much. Marge would feel bored and neglected and day-drink and pop Valium. Their children would eventually need years of therapy. In a way, I think Tom spared both Dickie and Marge years of misery. Dickie stayed forever young and I’d like to think that Marge dodged a bullet.