Actually, this is a remarkably enjoyable chunk of hullaballoo -- especially, I would think, if you have children. It's weird how rarely Charlton Heston sounds like Charlton Heston -- the heavy smoking and drinking to come explain the timbre of his voice, but where did the actorly accent come from, and did he develop it before or after this movie?
It's a shame that IFC is only showing it once. [Keep your "Once is enough" comments to yourselves, please.] I admire that whoever's in charge of programming at IFC regularly takes a few risks and airs stuff outside of the indy-film/Janus-classic rut so common to IFC/Sundance/old-school Bravo/repertory arthouse circuit. It would be nice if FLESH had aired, say, twice this month, however.
I obviously lean toward D, as flunky nos. 1-5 seemed far more interested in the home-computer-printed boarding pass than their fistful of my IDs. Plus, porn stars are more convincing at pretending to be gravely concerned about what they have in their hands. Once I was let out of the glass booth and into the pat-down/bag-check area, the guard temperature rose dramatically. I guess the guards up front can't just say "sir, you've been flagged for extra-security checks, please come with me" without the chance that the schmuck will give them static. Their act is enough to convince the passenger that they have a good reason for what's an assinine, abitrary piece of legal ass-covering in case the dirty laundry in my carry-on is rank enough that I can attack the plane with it. (It is, BTW.)
That order of chicken by the way, was supposed to be a small/pint order; this is what happens when you learn how to charm old Asian ladies.