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Nuns on the Run (1990). Simply ghastly. The actor, Eric Idle (or Fish Eyes as I affectionately call him), reminds me very much of my late, great uncle Ferryweather. Uncle Ferryweather taught me everything I ever needed to know about life, such as smelling for storms, ventriloquism, cheese rolling. He was a dear old boy, with eyebrows that twitched like a couple of randy caterpillars. He died trying to wrap his legs around his neck during a particularly raucous gentlemen's evening (it was his party trick, see), and he ended up strangling himself. Now, he's lives in an out-house at the back of my manse. He's grey and dusty, and when I press his rubbery face he makes a little parping sound. I love him very much.
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