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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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.

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Who the fuck ever knows what they want to do with their lives? Obviously I know what I'd like to do but, unless you happen to know of a private island that treats its bloggers to blowjobs then I guess I'll have to head back to the drawing board. How To Train Your Dragon 2 is all about this train of thought, with the lead character ‘Hiccup’ also struggling to find his place in the world. Having said that, it is interesting to see just how his situation differs to mine. When I was unemployed, my Mum genuinely suggested that I become an escort for lonely old women whilst a close friend actually recommended that I start “performing” for cash on a webcam. Both Hiccup and I are at a point in our lives where we just feel a bit directionless however at no point here does this film present him with the only two choices that I had. Will he fuck the hell out of some ageing, wrinkled tarts or will he wank himself stupid for some dirty old men? No... he'll just hang out with his dragon and explore a fantasy land until he figures it all out. What a prick!