Six Feet Under
Bomb Shelter

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M. Giant: B- | Grade It Now!
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Oh Me, Oh Maya

A the funeral home, the Gorodetsky kid sits alone and flips through a catalog of caskets. Did you know you can buy those at Costco now? He could have taken care of this and picked up a 55-gallon drum of ranch dressing all in one errand. Nate happens by and watches him sympathetically for a moment, then heads out the front door without a word. And, scene.

This is a double date on drugs. Claire, the Matthew Barney of LAC Arts, Anita, and Russell are wandering through an outdoor flower shop or arboretum or something, making comments that I can accurately abbreviate as "We are stoned. Please arrest us now." Anita comments that nothing they'll ever create will be as beautiful as the orchid she is presently mutilating so that she can stick the blossom behind her ear. Russell claims that Anita's Lego dinosaurs are stiff competition. Claire snipes at him, "Why are you so above everything?" and stomps off. Russell peels himself off of Anita and follows. A woman approaches the newly-reflowered Anita and tells her she can't do that. "It's okay," Anita deadpans. "Dick Cheney is my uncle."

Russell catches up with Claire, demanding to know what her problem is. "I can't fucking believe you would try to take credit for my work," Claire spits. Russell sees it as taking "my" share of credit for "our idea." Seems to me like he's way out on a limb, but Claire can't articulate her position any better than to say "Oh, please." Russell accuses her of being so insecure that she needs to take credit for everything, and she stomps off yet again, saying she doesn't want to have this conversation. Oh, that'll shut him up. Wait, it won't, and it doesn't, and he drives his "point" home: "You know I tore that photograph and put the pieces on your face. That was the idea." It may have been the seed of the idea, but Claire was the one who ran with it and made something out of it. Yet all she can do is sputter, "I'm the one who told you to photograph it! I'm the one who saw the potential!" Russell says, "So, if Picasso painted a picture it'd be okay if you took photos of it and told everyone it was yours." Claire can't believe Russell is comparing himself to Picasso. Given a choice between Russell being a Picasso or a Garfunkel, I know where I stand. Although Russell would need better hair. Russell backs off half a step and explains, "One of the coolest things about this was that we did it together. I liked that. Working with you." Hmmm. I'm not sure we're talking just about art anymore. Any response Claire might have is cut off when a security guard approaches Anita. All four "artists" make a break for it. I think maybe that security guard is going to be in trouble with the Vice-President.

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Six Feet Under

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