The Superbowl was yesterday, and it was extra rough getting a Box Office Report out for whatever reason we keep doing the Box Office Report.
But we found a Watson cousin who wasn’t watching the game
Yup, we found Lord Fessiwick Watson, and he had some thoughts.
I say! You Yanks truly have a poor concept of proper priorities in the Colonies, especially for that sport you call “football”. That game barely uses the foot, and isn’t what anyone else would call proper football. I have better things to do, and so should all of you.
But pish posh! Some of your countrymen went to the cinema this past weekend. It was, I am told, a cracking good time for that kung fu panda creature. Three times yet? And still making 21 million of your dollars? How droll. I took my own wife to the theater. We saw a fantastic revival of Pinter. Much more worth your while.
Those Coen Brothers had second place, hailing Caesar or some such rot. A celebration of Hollywood’s Golden Age earned $11.4 million? That makes no sense, especially as Hollywood’s Golden Age is nothing compared to time of our own Queen Victoria. The sun never set upon our Empire then, and all was right in the world.
Then there was a revenant. I don’t know what that has to do with anything. Does it have a bear in it? Does it kill some 19th century Americans? It would serve them right for wanting to be out from under Mother England’s shadow. 7.1 million American dollars in weekend gross? That is an expensive lesson.
Tell me, young man…what is a Star Wars, why does a Force awaken, and how does something so obtuse earn nearly 6.9 million American dollars?
And to round out the top five of fiscal reporting we have The Choice, based upon the writings of one Nicholas Sparks, a man who wishes he was half the writer Jane Austen was. You would be far better served with a good book than such rubbish.
Now be gone. I must prepare for my afternoon fox hunt.
I really hate some of these Watson cousins…