Allergies have caused me to resort to decongestants as the lesser evil to ear ache from fluid buildup. (I'm fine, really, just whining.) Decongestants screw up my head, so right now the week is a bit of a blur. I spent a lot of time working on a bench trial coming up this Thursday, played with the dog (who is still wonderful), and watched the Patriots' defense dismantle Philadelphia this afternoon, in a welcome change of pace from last week's dreadful game against the Bills.
Also, yesterday we saw Matchstick Men, which was solidly done. It won't make my collection of comfort caper movies, because it's a shade too tense, but it's tense from actual involvement with the characters, so it's not a flaw in the movie. Alison Lohman, who plays the teenager, is really quite good; Sam Rockwell continues to disappear into roles; and Nicholas Cage doesn't disappear into the role, but is nevertheless convincing, especially physically. (In the idiosyncratic reactions to characters category: Bruce McGill sporting a goatee looks eerily like Patrick Nielsen Hayden might, minus glasses and plus a couple of decades and some weight; this was really distracting when his character turned nasty.) The plot fits together smoothly and is entirely consonant with the con movie genre. Go figure: Ridley Scott—you know, Blade Runner and Alien and G.I. Jane—has made a competently entertaining little con movie.