Don't let it be forgot/That once — in 1967 — there was a spot/For one brief shining moment/That was known as that ridiculous movie I saw back then and rewatched now, "Camelot."

Camelot! Camelot!/I know it sounds a bit bizarre/But in Camelot — Camelot! — King Arthur is a clueless hippie and Guenevere is Vanessa Redgrave, a groupie in search of a rock star — That's how conditions are.

Well, I learned my lesson rewatching "Dr. Zhivago" (the 1965 entry in my "imaginary movie project"): A beauteous movie-star woman in a dramatic geographic location is just necessarily going to have hot sex with the best-looking man.

It doesn't matter that Guenevere is married to the king, and he's pretty nice and means well and all and he's not horrible looking (though what's up with the eyeliner?)...



Franco Nero comes to town...



... and sex must be had with that guy. Not just flirting and teasing, as you might think as things crank up in the first hour of this 3-hour monstrosity, when hordes of extras are cavorting and frolicking about how it's "the lusty month of May... when everyone goes blissfully astray" and "tons of wicked little thoughts merrily appear" and "When every maiden prays that her lad will be a cad"...

NYT columnist Frank Bruni, 49, is teaching a college class and the students don't get his allusions.

They didn't know the Jane Fonda movies "They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?" and "Barbarella." They hadn't heard of Vanessa Redgrave or Greta Garbo.

Or at least they looked like they didn't. Should we trust Bruni's interpretation of the blank expression on their face? Did it mean "I don't know what you are referring to?" or "Boring!"

The school is Princeton, Bruni reveals in paragraph 4, which means, of course, the students aren't dumb. They're just fractured, lacking shared experience, which Bruno concedes might be good:

No single, potentially alienating cultural dogma holds sway. 

Oh? Young people may not know the grand old actresses that swan about forever in the mind of Frank Bruni....



... but I think the young people are actually quite aware of the sway of a single, potentially alienating cultural dogma.

Cue inevitable discussion of Brendan Eich and Bill Maher's talk of the "Gay Mafia."

Natasha Richardson has suffered a serious head injury in a skiing accident.

The lovely actress is 45 years old, the wife of Liam Neeson, and the daughter of Vanessa Redgrave and Tony Richardson.

We saw her on Broadway in "Cabaret," back in 1998. She'd won a Tony for her portrayal of Sally Bowles, the role that had been identified with Liza Minelli. She played the part completely differently. It was quite cool.

I looked for a good video clip of her. A Google video search brings a scene from "Asylum" up first. Watch that — when you're not at work — and you'll see why that is popular on the internet. I've decided to embed the trailer from "A Handmaid's Tale" — that creepy feminist sci-fi atrocity — because I thought you might like to talk about it. It doesn't show off Richardson's acting. In fact, if I were judging her acting ability from this alone, I'd say she was quite bad. I'm not trying to trash her here though. I'm sad about the accident. But let's talk about something more than that it's sad she's had this accident.



UPDATE: Death.