So, Mate and I stayed up late tonight to watch the last two… who am I kidding. The last four episodes of Hanna.
We loved it, you should see it, but then I loved the original with Billy Crudup (I think) as Erik Heller as well, and, well, Joel Kinnamen, be still my heart. Also, Mirielles Enos was really interesting to watch as she see-sawed back and forth between redemption and commitment to hell. And Esme Creed-Miles was a pure delight.
So, we were looking up the actors in the end, and Mate was like, “Joel Kinnamen… what was that series we saw him in? The one with the detective that was really emotionally closed off? Wasn’t that The Killing? She bothered me–she just didn’t resonate as a mother… a lot like the character in Hanna, in fact–“
And we both said it at the same time. “It was the same girl!
And that was how we figured out that Joel Kinnamen and Mirielles Enos had been in two series we really enjoyed watching, as reluctant partners/antagonists.
Go us!
And then, after the movie, as I was coming back from the bathroom, I stepped in something.
Pretty sure one of the dogs threw up, but there I was, leaning up against the wall, begging my husband for a towel.
“Why?” he taunted. “They’re your dogs!”
“Please! I don’t want to track glop between here and the kitchen!”
“Fine.”
He had to pass me in the hall, and I was pressing up against the wall and he was hip checking me and squashing me and I’m thinking, “I swear I”m not that big!” and then he got past and as he was rooting through the closet (and I still had my face pressed against the wall because I was trying to keep my foot up and I needed the balance) he said, “You know, there was plenty of room.”
“You suck,” I said.
And he laughed for the next ten minutes as I cleaned that mess up.
Mate and me–it’s not billionaires and heiresses and super-hot bathing suits–but it is uniquely us.
