Why So Serious?

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I went to a stand-up club the other day in which people who weren't famous were allowed to jump on stage and try out their new material. One such character was a young man with blacked-out eyes, a beating stick, and a hand-puppet. He said that his name was Lynda. I remember this because he opened with a three-minute song in which the only lyrics were “Lynda's coming out to play” repeated over and over again. He then used the hand-puppet as an excuse to sexually assault one of the men on the front row. If I'm honest it was probably the most terrifying few minutes of my entire fucking life. Not a bad night out though. In many ways, this entire experience is sort of what I think the new Joker film was going for. Both Lynda and the Joker film involve a mentally ill person expressing themselves through comedy as the audience sits on the edge of its seat and watches a psychological fucking breakdown take place. I suppose that the difference is that nobody is suggesting that Lynda might be worthy of any future awards and I'd also be pretty surprised if anybody cited her as an influence in their upcoming fucking shooting spree. 

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Her And The Awkwardness Of Life

Being the hopeless romantic that I am, I have always written my own love letters when trying to woo a potential suitor. To save time, I generally just email a photograph of my cock with a question mark written on in marker pen! Set in the not too distant future, Her tells the story of a twitchy loner played by Joaquin Phoenix who makes his living from faking other peoples emotions by writing love letters on their behalf. Despite being so sensitive and kind however, he is currently going through a painful divorce which is of course all the stupid fucker deserves for being dumb enough to get married in the first place. Did I mention that I'm a romantic? As such he begins a relationship with an operating system that lives in both his phone and computer. Because clearly it's a good idea to start a relationship with a woman that you can't hide your internet history from. This is a world in which we seem to have figured out how to create artificial intelligence with his mobile-girlfriend being played by the voice of Scarlett Johansson. This might sound mildly impressive, but if I had a choice of dating Johansson's voice without her body, or her body without her voice, this isn't the way round I'd probably go for.

Cinema Needs Faces

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Don't you just hate people and their big punchable faces. It's just a skin-mask featuring their squinty little eyes, fat noses, and a mouth that essentially just acts a delivery system for their ill-informed and unwanted bullshit. Well- not so, according to director David Cronenberg, who argues that “the essence of cinema is a human face speaking”. That might be a bit rich coming from a man who's made a career from mutating peoples bodies and having Jeff Goldblum's dick drop off, but despite my ingrained sense of misanthropy I can't help but agree with him. Paul Thomas Anderson's The Master is a perfect example of this with there being almost no obvious plot and about as much action as you'd find in a horny Nun's bed as she lies motionless, alone, and in denial. Unlike most modern movies, there's no superheroes or aliens, no shared universe or exploding buildings. It's just a freaky looking man with a cleft lip talking to a fat man with a moustache and it's fucking amazing.