You know what it is? It's Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Not some classic 30s original, but the 90s remix featuring Kenneth Branagh all buffed and ready-to-go. Yeah, that's what it is alright. That's the first thing that comes to mind, staring into the mirror like this, trying to mess with it this way and that, as if a strand twisted to the left instead of right would /make/ it alright. As /if/.
Helena Bonham Carter, as Kenny's wife, murdered by the monster and re-stitched together, reworked like a little doll back to life, half her face sewn on. That's the hair I'm looking at. Only alot worse, because at least Helena can pull off crazy tart and still shag Kenneth on the side. I can't even get arrested in this town now.