I finally got around to watching the series finale of Extras this weekend. Rebecca got me Series 2 for Christmas and I wanted to rewatch it to refresh my memory.I could lie and say that I watched the finale On Demand or something but the fact is that I downloaded it the day after it came out. It's just been sitting on my hard drive since then. Whatever, I'll buy it on DVD eventually. Calm down, HBO.
Bottom line: it's brilliant. Hilarious and heartbreaking. And further proof that some of the best comedies (or at least the most satisfying) are very nearly dramas. Yes, I did cry at one bit. And that's saying something - I'm not a big crier.
Sadly, as good as it was, it had the ultimate effect of being somewhat discouraging. I must have sat on my bed for at least 10 or 15 minutes after it ended, thinking, "I could go my entire life and never create something this good."
What do you do with a thought like that?
3 comments:
Two words: murder-suicide.
I was going to say "buy a gun and kill yourself" but jakey mcjake's joke is better.
Hmph. The previous two comments are pretty mean. Let's try a random coincidence:
This morning I was thinking roughly the same thing about the Valentine's Day rant I repost every year. Here it is, for the record:
http://klsnow.blogspot.com/2005/02/quick-take-on-something-i-hate.html
I wrote that post in 2005. Every year since, I've tried to write something better. Funnier. Angrier. Bigger. Ever year I read my new work, compare it to my old one, and prefer the old one. It has little flaws. I'd remove the triple hate out of the first line. But it's every bit as good as what I'd write today. The fact that I might be done growing as a writer scares the crap out of me.
Ok, I guess this isn't mean, just depressing.
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