The Untouchables

I can’t complain. I did it to my wife. I ruined a film she liked. We watched Dirty Dancing. I was coming to it for the first time, as a thirty-something, and all I could think was that it was a hilarious pro-abortion movie.

Well, last night I got a taste of my own medicine. We watched The Untouchables. She’d never seen it. This was a film we – me and my brothers – used to watch over and over as kids. My Dad loved it. We all loved Sean Connery. We knew the film off by heart.

I said to my wife: you have to realise, this is a melodrama. It’s goodies versus baddies.

She said: is it supposed to be a melodrama, or is it just shit?

I told her: the music is by Morricone and the outfits are by Giorgio Armani.

So we watched it, and we couldn’t get to the end. Christ. I want to say “some of the scenes were so bad” but the reality is most of the scenes were so bad, even the ones that up until now I thought were great – the Sean Connery ones.

“This is a kids’ movie,” my wife said.

I had to agree. It was Indiana Jones.

I always knew Kevin Costner was terrible in it (how did he go on to produce a masterpiece only three years later). I always knew De Niro was a ham in it (he had begun the path that would take him to Cape Fear and beyond; in short, he had stopped acting). I always knew etc, etc…

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