Seeing Red....?

I have just recovered from a pummelling. No, not from a masseuse. Really. But from the vibrations caused by horses pounding across the plains. Explosions, gunshots, ricocheting bullets. I ducked and dived for cover, so unused am I to the modern cinema where sound pings at you from every direction.
I thoroughly enjoyed my first Western since Lord knows when, The Magnificent Seven. It wasn't as gritty as some I recall, and I did feel that the set lacked the deep ingrained gen-you-ine dirt of the old films. Did all those cowboys of yesteryear, have perfectly capped gnashers like this bunch? Hoary, hairy and authentically whiskered they were, but as soon as they smiled you got an eyeful of twenty first century dentistry. Call me picky.
But as I write this, I think you should be doing something more interesting and I should not be looking in a mirror wondering if auburn were the right choice today. Only time and a lot of reassurance will tell. In the meantime I'll "slap some bacon on a biscuit" and go. "We're burning daylight!"

Somebody today referred to Mrs Rogers. And it wasn't Fred Astaire..
I jest.. Dearest actually says it looks absolutely fine. Damned by faint praise?

Ginger Rogers (No resemblance)