It was a Sunday afternoon much like any other Sunday afternoon. Wife and son off to see the symphony, daughter down for a nap, I plant my over-tired body on the downstairs couch, turn on the television and drift away into a deep slumber.
When I awakened some 45-minutes later I see the opening credits for a film fading in/out, in/out of the screen. Hmm. "What's this?" I ponder. Michael Douglas. Kathleen Turner -- oh, must be one of those Raiders rip-offs they did back in the 80s.
Imagine the shock, the psyche-twisting horror when Director of Photography -- Jan deBont came on the screen.
My screams woke my daughter.
When I awakened some 45-minutes later I see the opening credits for a film fading in/out, in/out of the screen. Hmm. "What's this?" I ponder. Michael Douglas. Kathleen Turner -- oh, must be one of those Raiders rip-offs they did back in the 80s.
Imagine the shock, the psyche-twisting horror when Director of Photography -- Jan deBont came on the screen.
My screams woke my daughter.
