Incy-Wincy

Saw David Cronenberg's latest film, Spider, last night.
It's so bleak it hurts. Ralph Fiennes spends his time wandering around London muttering to himself, reliving his childhood memories.
Miranda Richardson is great, as more than one character.
Gabriel Byrne isn't too shabby, either. But Miranda Richardson is the winner in this one.

The film itself is mostly good, but goes to pains to hide it. It meanders, and I started drifting off in some of the slower bits. I spent that time idly contemplating correlations with other Cronenberg films. It's got characters that resemble each other, just like Dead Ringers. A character that likes lots of sugar in his tea, just like The Fly. On the other hand, nobody has their head blown up by Michael Ironside.