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Pills or Razor Blades?

We've seen the cheeriest movies this weekend. Last night was Before Night Falls. About a half hour before it ended I asked if we couldn't watch Sophie's Choice next. Today we went to Mystic River. I think I'll pull out Frances or Interiors tonight, call it a hat trick, and just kill myself.

No, not really. Truth be told, I've found a new reason to live ... Olivier Martinez. He was ohmygod so beautiful as Lázaro last night. This afternoon we were watching a trailer for Taking Lives, and whispered to Larry, "Isn't that my boyfriend from last night?"

Indeed it was. Out of nowhere, twice in two days. The universe is clearly telling me something.

Mystic River was a very good story with smart performances, and perhaps 30 minutes too long. Where have all the editors gone? Sean Penn didn't chew near as much scenery as I thought he would, but I'm still rooting for Mr. Depp in Pirates. Sean's not going to show up anyway.

Afterward the show, we were walking down 8th Avenue, comparing notes. "Who do you think gave the best performance in the movie?" I asked Larry.

He voted for Mr. Robbins. I told him that was a good choice, but sadly he was wrong ... clearly it was Marcia Gay Harding.

"Oh she always plays the same whining freak. I'm so glad they killed her off on Six Feet Under."

"What are you talking about?"

"Isn't she the same actress that was married to Nate?"

I stopped in my tracks, "You think Marcia Gay Harding and Lili Taylor are the same person?"

He said, yes, he thought they looked alike. I told him this was grounds for abandonment.

20 minutes later, warming up over lattes in the coffee shop down the street, he told me he didn't think he was going to get in all the best picture nominations this year, because he really had no interest in seeing Cold Mountain.

"Well that won't be a problem, sweetie," I said, just shaking my head. "It wasn't nominated."

"Oh. Good."

God bless him, he's so clever with the current cinema that I've decided to start calling him Oscar.