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Well you know the story don't you. The pedicurist (Michael Palin) and his social climbing wife (Maggie Smith) live with her mother (Liz Smith) and a pig they've stolen. The pig's smell, naturally, permeates the entire house. When people come in, that's the first thing they notice, the smell and Maggie Smith justifies it by saying "My mother, she's seventy four" I laughed so hard that I had tears running down my face. It's not the line per se the cause of it but its delivery and the faces, the faces of Maggie and Liz Smith. I've been a ardent fan of Maggie Smith all my life and I had a unshakable memory of Liz Smith and Dora Bryan as the British spinsters of Apartment Zero. Here the two Smiths create a subliminal duo that is downright irresistible. Don't miss it.

After I saw it I had to stop and wonder, what happened to this work of art? It affected me as much if not more than anything I've seen in years. But I don't know anybody who's seen it or heard about it. It has holes in its narrative, yes, and sometimes I felt a bit lost. The score is brash and doesn't seem to belong to the same movie. But Johnny Whitworth is pure magic. He takes us through his personal labyrinth with a lopsided smile and infinite melancholy in his eyes. Gabriel Byrne plays his father with a shattering weakness that sometimes is hard to watch, it's so recognizable. A man who's been given a second chance to be in charge but he knows, you can see it in his eyes, he knows he's going to fail. Nastassja Kinski, of course, out of this world in more ways than one. Beautiful. Shirley Knight (Heavenly in "Sweet Bird Of Youth") and Brian Donovan as the deaf brother are two characters I would've loved to see more of. Didn't quite understand who Shirley's Irma was, but I loved her anyway. I think the strongest recommendation I can pass on is that I can't wait to see it again.

Ryan Murphy managed the virtually impossible. Finding a tone and the tone has to do with the humanity of this Hollywood gargoyles. I wonder if young Joan and Bette knew where they were heading. Those women that their daughters wrote about, were they who they were or who they became. Jessica Lange throws a light on Joan Crawford that made me, already, re-think her myth. Her fear is actually tangible. Great, great performance. Susan Sarandon captures Davis's temperament and allow us a glimpse into the contradictory nature of the woman. Brilliant, succinct observation - when she throws herself into the role of wife and mother, she was thoroughly miscast. Alfred Molina is superb as Robert Aldrich and Stanley Tucci is terrific as Jack "I show you my hemorrhoids" Warner. I can't wait for the next episode.