Bourne Again

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Is it just me or does Jason Bourne have a suspiciously similar set-up to Finding Dory? It's around a decade after the previous entry in the series and we're finally getting a sequel in which everybodies favourite amnesiac fights to discover the mystery of their absent parents. Although I suppose the fact that Dory isn't known to have ever battered the shit out of anybody with a rolled up bit of magazine is one difference between the two. Also Jason Bourne is not a fish. One other thing that they do share however is in how artistically nobody really saw these follow-ups coming. I mean obviously Finding Nemo and The Bourne series were shitting out more coins than King Midas after a particularly brutal 'pokey-bum wank'. However it didn't seem that either of them really had anywhere to go in terms of story. Ignoring Jeremy Renner's The Bourne Cash-In, The Bourne Ultimatum not only wrapped the entire story up but it did so with literally the most perfect way to end one of the most consistent trilogies of the last few decades. In which case the question that needs to be be asked is 'does this new Jason Bourne film do anything to justify the continuation of the franchise?' Short answer.. No.

A Fish Out Of Water

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I was once working in a pub as four blokes in their mid-fifties were sat around ranting to each other about the problems with the youth of today. “You're in your twenties, aren't you” one of them eventually said to me, “I mean- you lot... I bet you can't even put your foot on this ceiling?!” There's a lot that you can slag my generation off for and so I'll admit that this criticism took me a little by surprise. “Obviously I can't”, I answered whilst pulling my best 'you're a fucking tit' face, “but I bet you can't either!” I don't know if people in his day found that walking around on their hands was a more efficient way to get around, but I was certainly intrigued by his declaration of, “actually... I fucking can”. “Go on then” I challenged, whilst excitedly preparing for the fact that on this shift I was about to get paid to watch on old man break his fucking back. It was at this point that the guy simply reached down to what turned out to be his prosthetic leg, popped it off, reached up, touched the foot against the ceiling and began to laugh. I know people don't like to hear it but sometimes disabled people aren't just victims. Sometimes disabled people can be knobheads as well.

It's Just Really, Really Bad

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Don't you hate it when you lie on your C.V., get the job, realise you have no idea how to actually be a brain surgeon, and suddenly now you're a murderer?! Well, it seems that's pretty much what's happened to Suicide Squad which is so structurally fucked and tonally inconsistent that I feel like I should go back to it with a doll so that it can point to exactly where the studio interfered with it. Just look at the very first trailer which used a haunting version of 'I Started A Joke' by everybody's favourite wailing eunuchs, The Bee Gees. It looked pretty creepy, I thought. Then trailer two used 'Bohemian Rhapsody' and the world shat its collective arse out with excitement because the movie looked like it'd be so much damn fun. Perhaps I'm wrong, but when you do watch the final film, it comes across as though they were making trailer one and then changed the product to fit it closer to the more popular aesthetic of trailer two. Imagine if you organised a wake for the death of your sister's husband but it gets on Facebook that it's actually a party, and so you have to put balloons everywhere to try and fake an atmosphere of fun. Meanwhile your sister is killing that atmosphere by crying her eyes out and blaming you for the death of her husband by “pretending to be his fucking brain surgeon”.

This Helped Me To Stand Up To A Racist

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Everybody has their moment to shine when it comes to standing up to a racist... well, except others racists, obviously. When leaving the cinema the other day I happened to bump into a chap who'd taken offence at somebody's “fucking dirty Muslim beard”. Apparently some white guy nearby had a beard that reminded this man of a 'Muslim beard' whatever that is (presumably he'd spotted some halal meat in it... or something), and as a result, said beard-owner needed to “fuck off out the country with those other Muslim bastards if he loves them so much”. I don't know what worried me more, the fact that I was now presented with the dilemma of either having to stand up to a drunken racist, or alternatively pretend to be one in order to avoid a confrontation.. or the fact that this chap clearly thought I had the look of somebody that might agree with his mad bastard views. Admittedly I don't have a “fucking dirty Muslim beard”, however that's less to do with the my ill-informed and bigoted xenophobia and more to do with the fact that I just can't grow a fucking beard.