Typecasting

I've had the DVD of Black Book on the shelf for years, after I picked it up for a bargain-basement price in Hong Kong, then put off watching it because I didn't want to be put through something harrowing. This evening, not wanting to go out, I put it on and tried to get through all the harrowing before my wife got back from her Zumba lesson.

It's not as horrific as I expected, although I only got half way through before my wife got home. Well, a film with a boatload of people being machine gunned by Nazis isn't exactly a barrel of laughs, but I had been put off by the impression that it was three hours of Vorhoevatron showing off. Thus far, no sprays of shit, cyborg policemen or strippers from Saved By The Bell, but it's not over yet.

There is the evil bald man from Flamme & Citron, who has job security, as long as there is a need for a very bald evil man in a leather coat. I wonder what he did when he was young, when perhaps he had a full head of hair. Did he do bit parts in EastEnders? Shampoo adverts? Maybe that was what did for his hair.

Or perhaps he was always bald, and from an early age terrified his classmates, with a woefully ill-fitting trenchcoat and a dodgy accent. Should the world know?