I shall rarely transcribe my reflections on certain picture shows, for I scarcely ever have the energy to do so -- watching them can be such a taxing enterprise. This evening's show, however, has proved to be the exception. I am in such a state of excitement and exhiliration over the story I have just witnessed, I do not know if I will sleep at all tonight!
The picture show was entitled Paparazzi, and it is the work of Sir Mel Gibson, a man I know to be of great enterprise and unwavering faith. It is a chilling tale, concerned with a character named Bo Laramie who is dogged by two curses. The first is an ugly heir, Zachary, a child with a forehead of such proportions that one feels quite sure that he shall never join his father as a public entertainer. The second consists in the repugnant photographers of the penny dailies, who badger poor Bo at every turn and come to cause great harm to his family.
At its outset, Paparazzi seems a tragic tale, and I was at first relieved to have brought my handkerchief with me. But it soon becomes a rousing yarn of vengeance, and midway through this picture show I was waving that very tear-soaked 'kerchief above my head in celebration! Watching Bo visit retribution upon the fiends of the press stirred my very soul. How it would please me to do the same to the dogs that hound me -- how I would cherish the opportunity to push Henry Wigglesworth in front of a passing carriage, or to drop a stone on the head of one of his photographer minions!
While I am tempted to encourage one and all to attend Paparazzi, I also know that only my peers of similar social stature will take true satisfaction from it. I pray that readers of lower standing do not take offense -- you must understand that if you have not been persecuted by the penny dailies yourself, you cannot possibly comprehend Bo's plight! Instead, I would direct you to view The Pacifier. I understand that this particular picture show is very popular among the plebeian masses.
