After consuming a meal of leftovers–cabbage rolls from the freezer, a couple pieces of winter greens gratin and freezer-burned corn–the Beast and I managed to pull ourselves up from the floor in front of the coffee table up onto the couch to finish watching Last of the Mohicans on Blu-ray, a Christmas present from the Beast to me. It’s director Michael Mann’s definitive cut, and there are subtle differences, which someone who knows the theatrical version intimately, like me, would be able to point out, which I did. I know the script so well that I will say lines of dialogue out loud before the actors do, a habit which I deplore in others.
The Beast didn’t seem to mind. He did, however, show concern when my eyes rolled back in my head like a shark before feeding on its prey when Daniel Day Lewis says things like, “I’m looking at you, miss,” to Madeleine Stowe, and he tears off her bodice with a metaphorical glare that must’ve penetrated her soul.
“So you’re telling me if I said that to you, we could go upstairs right now,” the Beast asked. “
