Glued to a movie rerun on a wintry Saturday night was okay by me last weekend.
The Devil Wears Prada, a Meryl Streep movie, was on TV3. A knockout movie and I am still amazed Streep didn't scoop an Oscar.
Famously about the bitchy world inside a fashion mag, Streep is extraordinary as the icy, malevolent, pursed-lipped, lizard-like editor. Her staff are all terrified of her which is exactly her game plan.
Her entrance into the office (several times a day) was practically cartoonish as she sashayed through the doors hauling a gazillion-dollar jacket or coat, or slapping it across the reception desks, followed with perfect timing by her latest, serious-fashion-accessory handbag.
It was superb comedic timing with each toss and Streep's haughty demeanour was a tour-de-force.
As her new recruit, Andrea (Andy) Sachs, Anne Hathaway was the perfect foil.
Those huge Bambi eyes, lush sweet mouth, an inquiring mind and a face which emotion flitted across all too easily, she was tasty fodder for her implacable boss.
And she wasn't helped by her supposedly supportive colleague Emily Charlton (Emily Blunt), who was a tragic creature, thin, unhappy, with a burning hostility towards Andy.
Then bring the superb gay fashion co-ordinator Nigel (Stanley Tucci) who, though he swept along with panache and style, was a cowering, frightened little chap underneath.
His outer brave demeanour nearly outshone Streep's often rabid countenance ... a few more scenes and it well might have.
Lines from the pithy script by author Lauren Weinberger came thick and fast. They were memorable giving these actors a feast of words to indulge themselves.
I will always remember Streep telling Andy why she had hired her.
She said she took a chance. "Take a chance. Hire the smart, fat girl..." she said.
Of course Andy was tall and willowy ... aaah whatever.
I enjoyed the snippets about her majesty's family, 10-year old twin girls. Particularly madam's request for the latest Harry Potter book still only in manuscript form for the twins to read on the train journey to Granny's house.
Of course, a seemingly impossible task but like all those jolly "may the best girl win" type movies Andy not only scored the manuscript she made three copies.
Cut to the twins on train reading furiously then to Mom whose jaw dropped about two centimetres across to Andy's face not quite hiding her beam of achievement.
Those life moments are with all of us. Those unforgettable "yay I did it" moments.
So great to be reminded.