I watched that Feud miniseries about the making of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane, and that was sufficient for me. Never needed to see the real movie.
Gary said it was a terrific film, and he wanted to re-watch it. Sure, I said.
I made it as far as when Baby Jane tosses the "Call the authorities! Don't tell my sister!" note back in the lap of the wheelchair-bound sister, and then I said, "What is wrong with you that you would want to watch even a minute of this sick, horrible movie?" Then I stomped off. He yelled at me that I was weak.
It did take about ten minutes of sulking to realize why a movie about an older woman in, say, her sixties (me in five months), who is trapped in a wheelchair (me in ten years) at the mercy of her mentally ill sibling (me, never, I hope) might not be my favorite.
Seriously, if I had a pet bird like Sister Maude, this movie would be custom-made for my anxiety.
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