You know, I started watching Elizabeth the other night, and for a few minutes, I almost thought, "Real princess, big dresses, horses. Maybe I'll TiVo it and show the kids." [Of course, I changed my mind long before the throat-slitting, headsmashing, poison bodice, and Norfolking scenes, but anyway.]
But anyway, I also realized this 1998 film is the source of my longstanding bafflement over why a giant company would name itself Quinny. Because in this scene, Vincent Cassel's pervy Duc d'Anjou is not whispering to Cate Blanchett about strollers.
update: an unexpected but welcome side effect of this post: none of today's publicist emails start with the typical, "I love your blog, especially your post about [insert topic of whatever post is at top of front page]!"