Just One of the Guys was on this morning. I'd mostly forgotten that for maybe a month or two in middle school, I was in love with (and slightly scandalized by) this movie. (I think I was scandalized by the language more than anything else.) I hardly remember anything specific about it, and judging by the bit of it I saw this morning, I'd clearly invented a lot of not-quite homoeroticism* in my head that never actually happened in the movie, which amuses me because that's one of the things I love about Trevor Nunn's film of Twelfth Night. (And, you know, Twelfth Night in general; but I think Nunn does a good job of putting it on film, whereas I've seen quite a few productions that don't manage it at all.)

Still, I always forget how I was apparently primed to love Twelfth Night before I ever managed to read it. (See also: The Last Silk Dress, The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle, The Outlaws of Sherwood, etc.)

Also--people dancing at proms in '80s movies are hilarious.


*What I referred to in another post under the "cross-dressing" tag as "conflicted supposedly same-sex longing from the male protagonist." Such things always make me happy.