Without any help at all, Liam Neeson cleans the Albanian mob out of Paris and saves a thousand young women from being sold to into prostitution while working out some serious and borderline creepy issues with his teenage daughter and making me think, as kidnpapped in Paris movies go, I'd have been a lot happier re-watching the much smarter, much less violent, and much more sharply directed, because it was directed by Roman Polanski, tribute to Hitchcock, Frantic, starring Harrison Ford as Jimmy Stewart or maybe Joel McCrea.

I like this, Lance. One sentence reviews are the best, and with this as evidence, you're especially well suited to them. As you probably know, Manny and I depend upon you for movie and Netflick-TV series reviews. You've never missed the mark.
With books, too, you're on target, although I have noticed a few small preferences of yours that differ with mine, albeit not Manny's.
PS.
Thanks for my Mother's Day wish. After I saw that, I attempted (and I'm afraid failed) to send Mother's Day greetings to all the mothers among my Facebook friends. As usual, I balked in the clinch, since I can't seem to stop one app from triggering another. A flashing sign was about to tell me who hates me. I know enough of that; any more might toss me back to bed where I'd just cry for days.
Posted by: Kathleen Maher | Monday, May 11, 2009 at 11:21 AM
Wouldn't it be more accurate to say that he saves his virginal daughter, fails to save her not-so-virginal friend, and then decides that all the other trafficked women in France can get their own dads to save them?
God, I hated that movie. There wasn't a woman in it who did anything but cry, scream, and suffer. Even Die Hard: The Evil Internets gave the girl a few good lines.
Posted by: piny | Monday, May 11, 2009 at 01:47 PM