A Truffle Pig Hunting For Clichés

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Before the new Bad Boys For Life, I'd never seen a single film in the Bad Boys franchise. Mostly because they sound like the title of a series of gay pornos and they're directed by Michael Bay. God, I can't stand Michael Bay's movies. If I had to pick I'd rather watch a gay porno over a Michael Bay movie. At least the gay porno would be less gratuitous and I'd actually be surprised if it went on for a further ten minutes after the final explosion. This new Bad Boys movie has a new directing team behind it though and so I felt it'd be okay to go and see it without my usual collection of pendants and protective charms. But then about half an hour into the movie, Michael Bay actually shows up for a cameo like Jason Voorhees springing out of the fucking lake to drown that girl at the end of Friday The 13th. “Why is nobody booing and hissing at the screen” I wondered of my fellow moviegoers, “Do they not know who he is?”. Truly the Devil walks amongst us. Not that he directed this movie don't forget. I can't remember the names of the two guys at the helm this time, but it doesn't matter. The film looks like an advert for an expensive watch that you'd expect to find on the wrist of a sexual predator that thinks he's in Entourage. I didn't hate it though. The movie I mean. Not the sexual predator. Or the expensive watch that I made up. 

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The Pink Feather Of History

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Imagine a world in which we could be conscripted into war. Horrible, isn't it? I get the hump when my phone has the balls to tell me that it considers itself to be “sufficiently charged” and so you can imagine how I'd feel about being ordered to plunge a knife into a German's throat. I'm not even against violence either, to be honest with you. I'm not going to kill for any nationalistic bullshit but if I'm at the cinema and a group of kids start taking selfies then my first basic urge is to run along their row with a fucking chainsaw. But war? Like actual war? Fuck that. Especially now that we have social media. Back in the day, we'd join up because we believed in king and country and all of that bollocks. But Twitter is like the masked magician where the magic of politics is concerned. Whether it's sawing a woman in half or starting a war, I guess things just seem less special when you've seen what goes on behind the scenes. The Second World War is taught to death in our schools but I don't remember the first world war coming up that much. Wikipedia's opening gambit on how that war started is, “the causes of World War 1 remain controversial”, and even the BBC's revision page begins with, “historians disagree about what caused the First World War”. If it happened these days I reckon it'd be pretty simple to find out the cause. Just wait for any two world leaders to change their relationship status to, “it's complicated” and then simply DM them, “u ok hun?”, whilst stocking up on fucking tinned food. 

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A Lock Stock From The Boomer Generation

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Cunt, cunt, cunt, yadah, yadah, yadah, and then something offensive about a minority. That's pretty much a perfect summary of mockney berk Guy Ritchie's latest offering of cinematic cobblers. I should tell you what happens in The Gentlemen but then I'm not sure there'd be much left of the film for you to enjoy. Which is assuming there was anything there in the first place? Or maybe I'm being too harsh. It's a Guy Ritchie movie and so there's always a cool soundtrack. There might not be much worth seeing here but like a blind person that's developed an increased sense of hearing, Ritchie usually provides something fun for the old King Lears. That's rhyming slang for ears, by the way. Obviously. Rhyming slang has always seemed pretty pointless to me because all it does is change the keyword of the sentence with a usually more random and dumb one that sounds so close to the original that you could probably still guess it. Saying 'custard and jelly' instead of 'telly' doesn't make you sound cool and if you intend to use it as a code then I'm guessing we won't be needing Alan Turing any time fucking soon. It's also just like how Guy Ritchie's gangster films are all essentially rhyming slang for The Long Good Friday. They're the same thing but with a few details slightly tweaked in the presumed hope that it might not be noticed by the more easily baffled amongst us. Does “Dog and Bone” mean telephone? Nah guv. Course it doesn't, now you carry on and mind your business. Is there a shot involving a characters fate in The Gentlemen that's a direct rip-off of the superior The Long Good Friday's iconic conclusion? Err... just you watch it you daffy or I'll fucking spanner you right in your fucking mug, okay?!

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