One of the many things I like about Bart is that he’s not afraid of BBC movies. You really can’t ask for more in a spouse. I find I particularly like to test this in January.
This year, Bart’s parents introduced us to Cranford (written by the same woman who wrote North and South) and wow, I loved it.
Filled with zeal for all things British, we came home and got Bleak House which some friends had told us we must watch and love. It took a little longer to warm up to (because, lets be honest, most Dickens’ things are dark and cold and with a name like “Bleak House,” well, you aren’t helping us out much, are you, Charlie?), but fortunately it’s seven hours long, so there was plenty of time to get into it.
Over the last four days, we’ve worked our way through the five hours of Wives and Daughters. Those were a pleasant five hours (especially the last hour were we ordered Indian takeout and ate our curry and naan bread in front of the screen).
Despite having watched somewhere in the neighborhood of seventeen hours of BBC dramas in the last two weeks, I’m not ready to move on to lame American action films yet (although, Bart may be).
Ralphie has suggested Nicholas Nickleby and my mom is currently watching and loving Berkeley Square. What else should I run out and find so that I can spend hours more on the LoveSac, pretending to improve my mind?