Knocked Up
Perhaps the clearest way of announcing my substantial recovery from Thursday's crisis is my essay on Knocked Up, Judd Apatow's new hit. It could not have been written by a depressed person or a psychotic person or even a drunk person. It did take too long to write; I'm far from the top of my game. While I feel well enough, Kathleen tells me that my face looks drawn, and I'm sure that she's right.
But for Paul Rudd (who was also in Mr Apatow's first movie, The 40 Year Old Virgin), the actors were unknown to me before I saw the film. That's very unusual for me, and I'll sometimes avoid movies whose stars are unknown, not because I demand name brands but because unknowns are so often the best that an indifferent project could attract.
¶ Knocked Up.
