I was right about having more news the other day, and now I remember what it was: Has Charlie Kaufman lost the plot? Danny Leigh thinks so.

... maybe the problem is that with Kaufman, it feels like the real mindfuck would be a trim three-act 90 minutes wherein reality and fiction fail to blur, waking life and dreams remain entirely distinct, and the relationship between characters develops through crisply enunciated dialogue offered at a respectable physical and spiritual distance. For although it seems strange to talk of a first-time director as having stylistically boxed themselves in, the truth is that for all his "only" being the scriptwriter, each of Kaufman's movies (an accidental phrasing that illustrates the point) have really been his, their directors merely gifted henchmen - and every one so filled with the porous nature of reality and fiction that, yes, mindfucking as the results can be, by this stage more of the same can't help but feel like deja vu, the fruit of just another professional USP (not a situation helped by that wilful self-parody of a title).

I think my modem might be on the blink. It better bloody not be, because I just spent 200 bucks replacing a dead hard-drive...