Wounds healed and flaunted alike

I use a non-Firefox browser at my own peril... I was getting worried there for a second! Another holiday brings another delay in box office reporting, and all the stand-up comedians get yet another freebie: "Why do we celebrate work by taking the day off? Huh? What's that all about?" Because work sucks, you moron. Even the average stand-up comedian has taken a hit in their pay lately, I'm assuming. But never fear, because healing is on the march. The whole North-South divide is finally over. We are a united people because of a little independent movie called The Help. This time next year? Tate Taylor will be the name on everyone's lips. So young, so wise, so rugged, so handsome, such an Oscar winner. Copies of Pretty Ugly People will be that much harder to find. What will his next project be? What rift will he breach, what wound to heal? I suggest the East Coast/West Coast rap wars be addressed in HBO Miniseries style. No shame in helming that these days! Look at what's his name... what was that guy's name, just won for The King's Speech. James Cameron's twin brother... Mr. Hooper! That's it.
Anyway, critics are a little mixed about The Debt. They wouldn't be if Peter Morgan wrote the script. No, the powerhouse couple behind Kick Ass is responsible for the script. Now they're just getting greedy... rowr! Oh, she's so not single. Kick Ass 2: Balls to the Wall not going to happen? Blasphemy! Oh, I don't want to know any more. As for the instant case, well, I guess I would've paid better attention had I known that Jessica Chastain would be thrust upon an unsuspecting movie-going public like so much Amanda Seyfried. What is this, her third movie this year? How do some people get so busy? Also, everyone's, like, just jealous that Helen Mirren's trying to play someone in their 40s. She can do it all, baby! And she's done worse, lemme tell ya... I'm sorry, Maxim Magazine, I mean this. Or this! They like The Godfather too, after all.
The other debuts this week are... let me look. Some light, fluffy fare for the horror movie fans out there, probably nothing that will make it into the permanent collection. First, there's Apollo 18, a film that smacks faintly of a Christian production that managed to make it into the lamestream. God bless the motivated! There's also Shark Night 3D. Oh, Colbert's going to have a field day with this one... no, wait, he's afraid of bears. The plot? Sharks eat the cast of Jersey Shore, and the casts of several other reality shows. The American public, having long been trained to efficiently run through the five stages of grief, makes a surprising recovery.