So this is embarrassing. I spent the past week buried in a freelance project, and Sunday night, when Sean suggested that we both take a break from occupational overachievement and go to the movies, did I suggest that we check out one of the many Oscar nominees I haven’t seen—The Fighter or The Illusionist or, god help me, Blue Valentine? No. No, I did not. Instead, I immediately proposed that we go watch Jason Statham shoot people while being unflappably cool in what I knew to be a thoroughly mediocre B-movie. I’m not proud of this, but I can’t say I regret it.