Going To See Bridget Jones's Baby...

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Going to see Bridget Jones's Baby was like accidentally stumbling into a fucking hen-night. Me and my friend religiously go to the cinema every single Tuesday and I refuse to watch the same film more than once a year. So this was literally the only thing that was available for us to see at that time. Plus it was getting good reviews so sod it, I figured it was worth a shot. But fuck me.. as we opened the door to the cinema, you could see the oestrogen flooding out like blood from the elevator in The fucking Shining. Women were dressed as devils, had banners around themselves, and at least one middle-aged gang looked like the Playboy Bunnies had escaped from a particularly rough session at the vivisection clinic.

Something Blindingly Good

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Kubo And The Two Strings begins with a mother and her young son in hiding from their family, which is something I can relate to. In this case it's because Kubo's grandfather has already plucked out one of his eyes and intends to pluck out the other. Me and my Mum genuinely once hid behind the front-room sofa because a relative we simply thought to be particularly boring was knocking on our door. Had they wanted to blind me too? Fuck that shit! Kubo is also told by his mother that he's not to go out at night because he'll be spotted and hunted down by the Moon King. My Mum also told me that when I was a child, although even then I knew that the Moon King was her euphemism for the pedophile that lived three doors down. The stuff I couldn't relate to however were the scenes in which the young boy went on a mythical adventure in which he fought giant skeletons and witches alongside his friends, the samurai beetle man, and a talking monkey. Me and my mate once found a load of beer in the woods alongside some porno mags but that's about as exciting as our adventures would get.

Alone In The Dark?

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Whilst watching Lights Out I was reminded of a little phase I once went through when I was younger. When I was a child there was a period in which every night I would see the Grim Reaper stood at the bottom of my bed just watching me. My Mum would turn the light on and reveal that it was actually just the shadow of some cuddly-toys combined with with a hung up dressing gown, but fuck her.. I know what I saw. From that point on I insisted on going to sleep with the light on due to my own little quirk of finding it easier to nod off when I couldn't see fucking demons. I was probably about eight when I began seeing him and so it's been a long time since I had Death stood over me as I lay in my bed. Shame really, because life seems to get shitter with age and so I don't think I'd really be too fucked about a visit from that cloaked prick at this point.

The World Gathered Round

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From the moment that the movie began with every-bodies favourite awkward sitcom character driving to work and singing aloud, I knew I was about to see one of the funniest films of the last few years. Despite how identical that set-up is however, I'm sadly not talking about David Brent: Life On The Road but rather the vastly superior spin-off movie Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa. The Office may well be my favourite show of all time and so I was nervous when Gervais announced that Brent was going to be the star of his own film. Not least of all because it seems that the more I see of Gervais, a man I once considered to be an Emperor of comedy, the more I begin to wonder about the fleshy pink colour of his flabby new clothes. The Simpsons creator Matt Groening once described Gervais as being “the new Woody Allen”. But you know.. as much as that'd be nice, I'm not sure it's actually true. Allen is the writer/director of such classics as Annie Hall and Manhattan, and Gervais is the man behind some not-so-classics as The Invention Of Lying and The Special Correspondents. The only way that Groening's Allen comparison could be even remotely accurate would be if he was actually referring to an as yet undisclosed allegation regarding Gervais fucking private life.