There must be a way to convey to a Japanese audience why Amélie was adequate but ultimately forgettable in its schlocky quirkiness and Paris (“the movie”): a derivative piece of tourism porn by an aging director, who used to do much better… that does not make one sound like a bitter jaded fuck or a strident Parisian film snob.

I just haven’t found it yet.

Note to Japanese makers of breakfast cereals: toasted rice barely belongs in granola mix. And it certainly shouldn’t make up for 80% of its fucking content.

You are not being as subtle as you think you are, with your grubby little corner-cutting scheme.