I am a sucker.

Saturday, I took in Leaving Iowa at the Royal George. And I was prepped for a total bland-over. You know, cornpone family vacation/coming to terms with your dead father comedy drama for ages 10 to 110. I didn't think it would hurt, but I was expecting some involuntary eye-rolls.

But you know what? It got me. The stupid show got me, in all of its slickness and calculated heart tugging, and despite the horribly dull central character. The secret, my kittens, is good performers. The cast had two superb comedians (one playing an annoying little sister, the other playing loads of tiny roles), and they kept everything sharp and entertaining. But it was Bradley Armacost, as the dead dad, who brought the meat, and made me feel all... moved. He was so sweet, and earnest, and daddish, and committed... just the most precious old actor ever. Whenever the show was in his hands it vaulted to this whole other level where I couldn't criticize a thing. I was toast. I am a sucker.