I hadn't thought of Way of the Gun in years, until I saw a piece on Grantland that listed it as one of the better post Pulp-Fiction Tarantino knock-offs. Since I had always been slightly curious about it I decided to give it a try. Turns out I wasn't missing much: the dialogue tries to be philosophical but just comes across as dumb, Ryan Phillipe is not convincing at all as a jaded street rat, and all the big reveals that are supposed to spice up the story in the third act are pretty blah. If I had seen it when it was new, it would have been underwhelming, but after being in the back of my mind for so long it was actively disappointing.
So instead of writing a detailed review of a movie that didn't really inspire me that much, I thought I would take this chance to give a little love to this website's silent partnet: the cat. It's been awhile since I talked about her on here, so let's give that a go, shall we?
When I first got the cat, she was pretty clumsy, regularly falling off tables when she was chasing after one of her mouse toys, and she had a hard time figuring out how to go outside when it was raining without getting wet. (The answer: stay on the covered porch.) I figured she was going to be a klutz for life, but I moved to a new apartment a few months ago, and now that I've watched her navigate an environment that has more climbable stuff in it, it's obvious that at some point when I wasn't looking she became a total ninja.
In my new backyard there's a fence and a tree, and I've seen her pull herself up the side of both with just her front claws, even though both are over five feet tall. Even more impressive: she figured out that she can use the window in the living room that we don't shut all the way as her own personal cat door. The reason why that's crazy is because the only way for her to get back inside the house is for her to climb up the stairs to the apartment above me, jump downward through the posts in the railing, and then turn sideways in time to land on the thin strip of the windowsill three feet below. It's the sort of precision maneuver that cats are known for, so it shouldn't surprise me to see her pull it off, but at the same time, watching her do it is like looking at your kid playing varsity sports and realizing that they are no longer the awkward baby that you always remember them as. (I assume awkward babies also fall off tables when they chase plastic mice.)
I don't know what's going to happen as we head farther into winter. Obviously we can't leave the window open forever, but at the same time, I like that she has a pet door. I don't want to have to get woken up to let her out - she likes to hunt in the hour before dawn, and it's a brutal time to have something badgering you in your face for help. Some part of me is hoping that her skill level will hit the next level, going from clumsy to ninja to nearly human, and that she will figure out how to unlock a door herself. But I'm pretty skeptical. Why should she bother when it's easier to just make me do it? Since she knows where I live its hard to hide from her attention, so it might be a long winter for me.
Anyway, to recap: boo to Way of the Gun. Yay to growing out of your awkward phase. Boo to being woken up so someone can get a wild breakfast instead of just settling for the pre-packaged breafkast that's waiting on the floor in a bowl. This round it looks like the boos have it, but it was a close race.
Winner: the Cat