Another Drop Kick To The Heart

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Pixar films are great because you can take a first date to see one and if they're not in floods of tears by the end then you know they're likely to be a fucking sociopath and you're in danger. Not that I go on many dates, of course. The only chance I have to meet people is through Tinder and recently I've been left swiping on everyone like a motherfucker because I've started getting off on the idea of being the one that rejects them for a fucking change. So even though Pixar's latest Onward is quite clearly a children's film, I ended up going to see it alone. Which is fine. I'm aware that in a row of parent, child, parent, child, parent, child, me, that I must look like a nonce. But I also don't want people disturbing me when I'm at the cinema and so I'm quite happy to have children be told not to go near “the bad man”. Still. I probably shouldn't be getting my dick out even if it is just to maintain that illusion. I went into this movie pretty blind having avoided all trailers and reviews and so I wasn't sure what it was going to be about. As it turns out it's a fantasy film that takes place in a world that's relatably our own but where magic is treated as being part of the mundane. Imagine The Lord Of The Rings but if the Hobbits were stopping every few miles to brag about how many steps that their fucking Fitbits were up to. Or the Narnia movies if Edmond had to ram his fingers down his throat because he'd eaten too much Turkish Delight and his Instagram followers were commenting that he was becoming a fat prick.

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From Capitalist To Naturalist

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John Hammond, the creator of the original Jurassic Park, was a fucking moron. He brings the dinosaurs back to life and decides that the best thing to do with them is to stick them in a theme park? Who thinks like that?! That's like being the first person to meet a martian and deciding that the best thing to do is to stick it in a lap dancing club and charge people to watch it jiggle its massive space tits. After spending a fortune on this park he then decides to try and run it with about five people after sending his own grandchildren out on a test-run. To make matters worse he has a big fat fucker in charge of security that he actively seems to hate and who seems dissatisfied with his work load and pay. Hammond literally may as well have handed his staff pictures of himself going nuts deep in the dinosaurs' egg-pooping-holes because it's seemingly obvious that he wants to be blackmailed and this way'll be safer for everyone else. Had all of this somehow worked out and the Park opened though, it seems that the dopey fucker had also built the thing on an active fucking volcano. I presume the exploding island that he bought must have been slightly cheaper than the other options of a nuclear testing site and an ancient Native American burial ground. Sadly for all involved, the creator of Jurassic World saw every dumb thing that Hammond did and thought, “Fuck it.. I reckon he was just unlucky”.

Some Hazey Cosmic Jive

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Near the end of Valerian And The City Of A Thousand Planets, the two lead characters find out that they're going to be stuck in a shuttle with each other for two hours and with nothing to do. “Great” one of them says to the other, “Two hours with you is going to feel like an eternity”. “Imagine how I felt”, a friend said to me after the film, “I had to spend two and a quarter fucking hours with them”. To be fair the film hasn't exactly received the warmest of welcomes with critics accusing it of essentially being cinematic candy-floss, colourful to look at but ultimately lacking in any substance whatsoever. They're not wrong either. Sci-fi movies have the potential to hold a mirror up to our own society and reveal profound truths about our existence and way of life. In this film we see Cara Delevingne stick her head up a jelly-fishes arse hole in order to see the future and, in honesty, I fucking loved it. Not just the head to anus scene but every rainbow coloured piece of bullshit that the film spewed my way. If gay pride was a person then this is the film that it would vomit out at the end of a really enjoyable but ultimately forgettable night out.

Marvel Shows Off Its Ego

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Guardians Of The Galaxy Volume 2 has quite probably the greatest opening ten minutes of any Marvel movie yet. Beginning on Earth in a flashback sequence set in the 1980's, we see a young Kurt Russell enjoying a day out with who we know to be the mother of Chris Pratt's Peter Quill. "Hang on!", I hear you say, "As cool as Kurt Russell is, I'm pretty sure that even he has aged slightly over the last thirty years!" Well, as was the case with Downey Jr. in Civil War, Marvel seem to have access to the most cutting edge technology and have de-aged him to the point of absolute believability. I can only assume that this technology is known as "a fucking time-machine" because, trust me, it's fucking crazy how good it is. I'm one of those people who spent their teenage years shunting nights out looking for pubs that might serve my underage self in favour of nights in watching old John Carpenter movies. My younger self was what you might call 'a cool motherfucker'. As a result, the image of a younger Kurt Russell is something that I've spent so many hours staring at that it's pretty much burnt onto my fucking retina, with what we see here matching it perfectly.

Have Filmmakers Run Out Of Ideas?

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It's easy to say that filmmakers have run out of ideas when screens are full of sequels, remakes, and whatever the fuck piece of shit Batman V Superman was meant to be. In fact, this is something I heard two middle-aged men bitching about the other day and I suppose it's easy to see why. I mean look at what's on right now... Ben Hur and The Magnificent 7? It's like we're into the remake part of the studio named 'Stuff that Dad's might like'. Sadly my Dad is more into drinking himself into an early grave and remaining married to his miserable bitch wife than he is in seeing films, so I ended up going to The Magnificent 7 with a friend instead. I should point out at this point too that as terrible as I'm sure it is to admit, I haven't actually seen the original. Sorry. I guess I'm rarely sat in front of the television on Easter Sunday. It's just one of those things that's been on my 'to do list' for ages along with completing The Wire and either figuring out what the fuck my life is about or finally going through with the car exhaust, hose pipe, window trick.

No Expense Spared

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Now, before we go any further, I feel I should point out that I think that Jurassic Park is perfect in every single way. If you told me now that there was a movie starring Sam Neill, Jeff Goldblum, Laura Dern and Richard Attenborough then I'd have my pants off and my pop-corn ready before you even got to the title. If you then told me that the cast would then spend the bulk of the movie running away from huge dinosaurs then I'd probably just start crying due to how flawless that idea is. Sobbing whilst naked from the waist down really is the only proper way to react to a plot description of Jurassic Park. It has a fat man falling down a waterfall, a triceratops with the shits, and a sneaky, ninja T-Rex at the end. What more could anybody ever want from a movie?! The sequels decreased in quality as the franchise marched on but I'd argue that they were still never less than good. Sure Jurassic Park 3 isn't the best but it's not much worse than Jurassic Park: The Lost World. Neither films might reach the heights of the groundbreaking original but they both have their moments. The scene in which Julianne Moore falls onto a sheet of cracking glass is one of unbelievable tension, and if you don't like the idea of a dinosaur that's eaten a phone and now has his own ringtone, then I don't think we're ever going to get along.