Exhibit 27.12

Don't

A long time back when writing about The Silent Partner, I mentioned that Christopher Plummer had aged poorly. I owe Mr. Plummer an apology. Clearly, whatever terrible crimes his body is physically reacting to are not nearly as unique as I imagined.

I was watching Blow-Up the other day and was trying to figure out why the main actor looked so familiar. I would never have figured it out without IMDb.

Here's David Hemmings in Blow-Up:



Here he is circa-Gladiator:



I would have never figured it out because I couldn't have imagined David Hemmings was some deviant's Dorian Gray portrait.

Okay, so these movies were made more than 30 years apart and this is completely insulting to the very dead, very talented Mr. Hemmings. He's great as a narciss/misogyn-istic photographer in Blow-Up, a movie which relies entirely on his ability to embody contradictions without ever speaking to them. But there's something about that beauty-obsessed character ending up like, um, that, that's both depressing and entirely appropriate.

I mean, I know he's not that character but with those eyebrows, he was obviously some kind of character. So rest in peace, Mr. Hemmings, and for god's sake stop reminding us how this movie is going to end. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go buy a Bowflex and some eyebrow scissors. Those are a thing, right?