Where's the 'Bras?

Okay, now that I think about it, perhaps this headline is misleading. Then again, perhaps it will lead to 10 million hits in the next five seconds. Then, everybody can see the wonderment of the first ever fork-authored blog in American history.

However, they may be disappointed when they discover that I'm talking about Fortinbras of Norway, the character who basically comes in and mops up at the conclusion of "Hamlet." Too many adaptations of Hamlet do not include this final scene!

Now look, I know this guy isn't the sexiest of characters, as he's barely mentioned at the beginning of the tale, but let's make some sort of effort to be faithful to the play. That ending sort of completes the story and finishes the bookend. It brings everything full circle. It's like, hey -- GOOD one, Hamlet. GOOD one, Claud. Now the dude from NORWAY has to come in and take over because YOU RETARDS had to go and get yourselves killed! And over what? Who Gertrude was diddling? Really? You seriously cared that much? Well, now look! You're all compost!

See? It works. Leave that off and you just gots yourself a bunch of dead guys lying around, and that's no fun unless you're a necrophiliac.

Of course, this is a typical movie thing. Stuff always has to get edited out for one reason or another. Maybe the budget was tight. Maybe the test audiences wet themselves in distress. Maybe the screenwriter was just an idiot. It's just like with all those Bible stories and movies. You know how they NEVER include Tuney, the apostle that loved tuna sandwiches? In reality, Tuney was the apostle closest to Jesus. They could usually be found laughing and eating tuna sandwiches together while watching "Wide World of Stonings." They would often go into the market together and look for great tuna fish bargains. Of course, none of this is ever covered in the official, mass marketed Bible stories. What were they afraid of?

Yet another point worth mentioning is that, throughout the weeks of the filming of "Ben Hur," Stephen Boyd was checking out Charlton Heston's manly goodness every morning through a hole in the wall of his dressing room. And, once again, none of this footage ever made it to the final cut.

So, gentle filmmakers, I say to you: Even though I was drifting away from my point a bit there, still, cut the crap and give us reality. We can handle it!