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Disturbia is a film about a guy, played by Shia LaBeouf, who is put under house arrest for living the dream and punching out one of his teachers. We've all been there, haven't we? An authority figure has given us a shitty look or a pissy comment and then we've spent the rest of the day just fantasising about what it might have been like to roundhouse kick them into the fucking road. Just imagine if you could do that and the worst thing that would happen to you is that you get told to stay in the house and to stop being naughty for a while. I haven't assaulted anybody and I'm having to go through that same punishment simply because somebody developed a sniffle after boning a fucking bat. As I write this now we're in the middle of the Coronapocalypse and being told to stay in our houses and my God it's fucking boring. What the fuck is there to do? There's nothing is there? Well, there's all of our gaming consoles, streaming services, social media, and I'm basically at the point where I've accidentally wanked my dick down to the size of a fucking toothpick. But other than that what else is there to do but to look out of the window and wonder what our neighbours might be up to? In the case of Shia LaBeouf, he's convinced that the bloke across the road from him has started to kill people for fun and I know how he feels. The other day I had a look out the window and saw Joan from across the road coughing her guts up into the face of our local postman.

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Kicking Against The Pricks

Prohibition was introduced to America in 1919 and is probably one of the most famous examples of a large-scale fuck-up in recent history. I fucked up once a few years ago when I accidentally crafted myself a homemade bomb. My granddad had just died and left me a gold ring which someone suggested I should wash. Their reason was that he may have had it on whilst having a wank... all very plausible, I suppose.

Cleaning newly-deceased granddad spunk off from jewellery is not something I'm an expert at so I decided to get creative. I popped the ring into a flask, filled with boiling hot water and introduced a little washing liquid. I then put on the lid and shook it to mix the bubbles. The bubbles quickly expanded, the pressure increased and the flask exploded into tiny pieces like a watery fucking pipe-bomb. I then had to quickly clean everything up before my Mum came home- nobody wants to have to tell a parent that they, “made a bomb whilst trying to clean up dead-granddad's jizz” so I sprang into action. I couldn't vacuum flask shards because the carpet was too wet so I started to dry it with a towel. Annoyingly though this just made the washing liquid froth up like I was at a fucking foam party. Just when I thought I might get away with it, my hand began to burn. When the flask exploded I'd scolded myself and within a few minutes the skin from my knuckles had completely peeled away.

I'm not suggesting that my adventure into the world of home-made explosives was as stupid as prohibition but both are clearly moronic situations. I'm not sure why America decided to ban the selling of alcohol but I bet it's got something to do with outspoken religious people. As a result of this, the consumption of booze in certain major cities actually increased and organised crime became a much larger, powerful threat to the nation. Like with my bomb incident, somebody decided to fix a non-existent problem and ended up creating an even stupider situation. I had to go to the doctors in the end and tell him that I'd tried to make a cup of tea and instead poured boiling hot water over my hand. I'm sure it took a lot of professionalism for him to simply not diagnose me as an 'incurable stupid, fucking retard'.

There have been many films over the years that deal with the organised crime that thrived as a result of prohibition. One of the most famous is of course The Untouchables in which Sean Connery played an Irishman from Scotland and Kevin Costner played a man with all the charisma of a cardboard dildo. The most recent to be released however is Lawless which was directed by John Hillcoat and written by Nick Cave. Apparently the script was based on a book if anybody remembers those. They're basically what people were forced to use instead of televisions before the invention of any technology whatsoever.

Set during The Depression, this film tells the true story of three brothers who earned a living through bootlegging. They were basically the weed dealers of the 1930's by selling a relatively harmless product to a public of responsible adults. With Shia LaBeouf as the youngest brother in their gang, the story is mostly framed by his desire to be taken seriously and given proper respect. Ironically that is presumably also why the actor is now appearing in films like this and featuring naked in pretentiously awful music videos. Although, if I'd been in Transformers: Dark of the Moon I'd probably walk around with my cock out crying to Sigur Rós too.

The older of the three brothers is played by Tom Hardy who mumbles his way through scenes like a big, pink Hulk. His role here is a matriarchal one, as like a giant Mummy Bear he watches protectively over his family. In fact, most of the film's highlights are when he snaps into action and starts stabbing people in the head and cutting off their bollocks. His character also wanders the movie refusing to die despite receiving potentially lethal injuries on several occasions. It's said in the film that he is an immortal and like Superman or Keith Richards, it certainly looks that way.

The third brother played by Jason Clarke is unfortunately not well known enough for his own story and so simply pops up as a sidekick now and again. If the film has any problem, it's in the characters that it accidentally neglects which, as well as Jason Not-so-Famous, also includes Gary Oldman and Mia Wonderland.

The main antagonist of Lawless is easily Guy Pearce who minces into the story like a pantomime psychopath. His mission to enforce prohibition requires him to stop the bootlegging business of the three brothers which he attempts to do with extreme force. It's hard not to be instantly drawn to a villain that seems to be part Harry Callahan and part Danny LaRue, but Pearce's character represents another of the film's issues. For the most part, the movie is a fairly grounded gangster/western with several gritty performances and a clear eye for period detail. By appearing as a demented member of the Village People, Pearce's performance appears slightly jarring. Having said that he does hint towards what he could have done as The Joker if cast in one of Nolan's Dark Knight movies. As Jeffrey Dahmer and Michael Barrymore have proved, there is nothing more creepy than a sinister gay.

If there was a reason to be excited by Lawless however, it was in the repairing of Nick Cave and John Hillcoat. The two previously collaborated on the Aussie western masterpiece, The Proposition and the end of the world joyfest The Road, for which Cave supplied the soundtrack. Being a generally hate filled person, I am of course a huge fan of Cave's music which includes such romanticised lyrics as, “They found Mary Bellows cuffed to the bed,
with a rag in her mouth and a bullet in her head” and “I'm a bad motherfucker, don't you know. And I'll crawl over fifty good pussies just to get to one fat boys ass hole”.

The music to Lawless is predictably brilliant. Despite being covers of songs from other artists, it's interesting to hear how a couple of them could easily fit onto the Pat Garret and Billy the Kid soundtrack. Since The Proposition, it seems to me that John Hillcoat could be our generation's Sam Peckinpah and now with Lawless, this still seems true. Both men make films about struggling masculinity in a nihilistic world and infuse them with a smothering sense of melancholia. They also deal with characters who have to bend their own morality to survive amongst the violence and brutality. I guess the difference would be that Hillcoat has the taste to allow his rape scenes to take place off screen. It's not that I'm against rape being graphically depicted and I do think Straw Dogs is a masterpiece. But I watched that scene with a couple of mates once and one of them squirmed about in an uncomfortable way that suggested he probably had an erection. Firstly, any film that puts my friends into heat makes me feel awkward, secondly a graphic rape scene shouldn't really result in a sweating chubby.

Unfortunately Lawless doesn't quite reach the brilliant heights of The Road or its brother film The Proposition, however that's not to say it isn't still great. LaBeouf's acting has been turned up a notch and even if he can't quite match the giants of Hardy and Oldman he clearly has a good old try. Apparently he's recently decided to become a method actor which means he's grown a beard and started sporting crappy looking knitwear whilst out in public. For Lawless, being a method actor led him to go out of his way to track down and drink some actual moonshine. I say that as though it's meant to be impressive but lets face it, it's really not. Plenty of people have to get pissed to go to work. I once genuinely found a teacher locked in a classroom, face down on a desk and with a bottle next to her drooling face. The only difference between her and LaBeouf is that he's on a better wage and she was responsible for a class of school children. In hindsight she could probably grow a better beard than him too.

Regarding LaBeouf's character I did actually notice something strange. There were several occasions when he'd had the shit kicked out of him and was left bleeding and broken. Presumably this was either for his character's outlaw ways or simply the actors association with Michael Bay's mechanical movie bollocks. After leaving the scene a blooded mess he would arrive at the next one without a fucking mark on him. Now either this is a rather obvious continuity error or his character has healing abilities as powerful as Jesus H. Christ. If it's the latter, then Lawless is officially the best Wolverine prequel I've ever seen.

Superpowers aside, the film is unfortunately a little cliched, not really adding anything new to the genre. It's still a good ride while it lasts however, and so certainly worth a watch. Highlights include a character getting his throat slit and Gary Oldman twatting somebody in the face with a shovel. With the world currently in an economic shit heap, you could look at the political relevance of a film that depicts depression-era ingenuity and corruption within the system. But really who can be fucked doing that with a movie that features a man getting boiling tar poured over his back. Despite everything mentioned, I thoroughly enjoyed Lawless and that's despite watching it in a cinema surrounded by cunts who wouldn't shut the fuck up. In fact I think being massively pissed off with the people there really helped me to enjoy the on-screen violence. People think that something like The Road is depressing because it shows the end of humanity, however after hearing people talk through Lawless I honestly can't think of anything more satisfying.

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No Time For Love, Dr. Jones

From that depressing moment when we wake up alive, we proceed to spend our entire day existing in a world of lies. With friends, families and strangers being granted the curse of speech, every living moment is simply another adventure up the river of bullshit. If Piers Morgan is anything to go by then the general rule should be that if it has a pulse and something resembling a face then just don't trust it, stab it with a fork, burn it with fire.

It's not only an exposure to people either that we should be worried about. All day long we're bombarded by adverts convincing us to buy shit that we don't need in exchange for our dignity, souls and, worst of all, cash. They tell us that wearing deodorant will get us laid and that eating chocolate will result in an orgasm. The only way that buying an aerosol might get you fucked is if you sprayed it directly into your victim’s eyes. There's only one possible process in which chocolate can make you cum and that's by slipping it melty-end first up the arse hole. In that unrealistically honest world ‘Toblerone’ would be shaped less like a mountain range and more like a sweet, honeycombed cock. With popping-candy…

Believe it or not but cinema too is guilty of its fair share of truth bending. If Pretty Woman was real, Julia Roberts wouldn't have found love with Richard Gere. She'd have been a crack addicted single mother who'd end the film rolled up in a rug and plunging headfirst towards a polluted river.

More importantly though according to the movies, archaeology is an action packed adventure through dangerous jungles after treasures and trinkets of huge cultural significance. In reality archaeologists are rarely allowed out in the sunlight and are only released to scrabble around in mud and dig up some shiny shit that was dropped a good time ago by a couple of long-dead wankers. If you ask me, an archaeologist is just a road sweeper with a degree.

But fuck it- I don't watch movies to see the truth, I watch them for entertainment. Watching the Indiana Jones Franchise is more fun than visiting a museum and anyone who says different is clearly wearing their anorak too tightly. At this point there are four movies in the series and despite the luke-warm reviews for Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, I do hope they make another. Although, I do hope they make it quickly as I'd much prefer to watch Dr Jones searching for something because it's valuable and not just because his dementia has set in. As soon as we get to Indiana Jones and the Wreaking Stench of Piss it's probably high time to hang up the whip.

Now regarding the current four films, I'm not an idiot. I know that without question Raiders of the Lost Ark is clearly the best and most well made film of the franchise. I think it could also stake a claim to being one of the few perfect movies in existence. There are no skinny aliens, Jones always shoots first and it's presented in good old fashioned 2D. So far the only 3D film I've been excited about is Titanic and that's only so I can get a more accurate look at Kate Winslet's rounded tits.

As much as I love Raiders however, my guilty pleasure has got to be the hugely under-rated Temple of Doom. I'm not saying that it's the better film but simply that I get more boyish-giddyness out of it- kind of like visiting a prostitute for fun whilst your partner sleeps in bed at home. It's not that you love the whore more it's just that she lets you stick it up her bum without threatening to leave you the next day.

Temple of Doom starts off in a Shanghai nightclub and with an enjoyably catchy musical number. This is our introduction to Willie who is to be both Dr Jones's fresh slice of screaming fanny and also one of the biggest gripes people have with this film. After she finishes warbling and Indiana stops playing pass the poison with a couple of sinister looking misters, the two exit the club via the traditional method of jumping out the window. Luckily, to break their fall is Short Round, a young Japanese child who is both being groomed by Jones for his own personal reasons and also the second character in this film to get on some peoples tits.

After being chased by a mob of gunmen for seemingly not paying his drinks tab, Dr. Jones and his gang board a plane to escape. Unfortunately though the pilots’ shifts end mid-flight with them deciding to empty the fuel tank and fuck off home. I'm assuming this isn't standard aeronautical procedure although it's probably less dangerous than eating some of the shit they serve on commercial flights. I'd honestly much rather see the pilots pissing off past my window than put some of that processed gunk in my mouth. I ordered some bacon once that arrived to me in a small tin tray looking like a pork chopped vagina. Thanks to that flight, both Kermit and I now know what it feels like to go down on a pig.

As he sees the plane is about to crash, Indy has the genius idea of leaping head first out of the open door and surviving the fall in an inflatable dingy. Personally I wouldn't have thought that a thin sheet of rubber would make much difference at a height like that but I'm not a Doctor like Jones is, so fuck it what do I know. Thankfully the children's inflatable prevents the gang’s legs from penetrating their shoulders and instead they all go on an exciting ride down to the base of a mountain. At the bottom they are greeted by a surprise cameo from a mental looking Ghandi.

At the local village, Indy is finally told the plot of the film. Apparently both a magical stone and all of the local children have been stolen by a nearby ruler. If he can return the stone then everybody will be very grateful, if he has time to grab the kids too then even better. We're told that the people living here are starving due to the lack of food. Bringing the kids back would just result in more mouths to feed so sod them- just get the shiny fucking rock and let’s move on.

So like King Bitch of the Peasants, Jones does as he's told and trundles off to grab their treasure. This latest adventure takes in a lot as he encounters the usual booby-trapped rooms, a Donkey Kong mine cart chase and even witnesses the human sacrifice of a man that I'm pretty sure is Spud from Trainspotting.

Of course this film isn't as good as Raiders but that doesn't make it bad. For me the whole point of an Indy movie is to simply be fun and I don't think anyone could say this is dull. With its rip-out-hearts and demonic baddies, the film has been criticised for being too scary with Spielberg himself even stating that, “It was too dark, too subterranean, and much too horrific.” Personally, I just think this argument is a little bit bollocks- as a 10 year old watching it for the first time, I loved every second. Sure I got scared at times but that just added to the enjoyment. If I was that traumatised by it I wouldn't have spent the next few days putting my hand over people’s chests in an attempt to remove their hearts. In the end I figured it was quicker to just use a knife and blame it on God.

The action here too is just as exciting and just as relentless as you'd expect from a genre king like this. There's the opening club shoot out, conveyor belt wrestle, and of course the run away mine chase. Once things kick off, they just don't let up to the point where even I felt tired just from watching. If woman was made from one of Adams ribs then I can only assume that Harrison Ford was made from a slither of Thor's scrotum. The amount of stunts and scrapes that poor Dr. Jones goes through really is enough to make me wonder what my teachers were moaning about. All in the name of education, Indy is caught by a cult and forced to drink poison from a decapitated head. We only had one teacher who'd have been prepared to do that and that was mainly because she was a suspected alcoholic. 

The humour too is in my opinion much more obvious in this film. Temple of Doom caters exactly for my inner 8 year olds needs by clearly upping the icky with more bugs, gore and suspiciously coloured gunge. If I was Kate Capshaw and a fat man showed me his ‘snake surprise’, I think I'd be relieved when things started slithering across the table and he kept his porky little knob hidden firmly under his chubby pocket of belly-flab. Some people think the jokes here are a little too broad compared to the previous movie but they're wrong. Slap-stick or not they're still funny in the intended manner. The last movie had a singing Gimli, a Nazi-monkey and a fat man who can't take his drink, so neither film is exactly Oscar fucking Wilde.

When it comes to people’s gripes with this film, it seems the finger of blame is pointed at the inclusion of both Willie and Short Round. Regarding Willie, yes, she's a wailing pain in the arse but she's supposed to be. From what I can tell, she's a throw back to those scream-queens of ye olde Hollywood, with the pleasure being in not enjoying her company but seeing her in trouble. Willie has a horrible time throughout this movie and I'm glad because seeing her upset amuses me. When she shows up I don't think “I hope she survives”, I think “fuck her- throw another fucking spider in her face”. People wonder why Indy likes her but I don't think he does. He carries a whip around for God’s sake! Do we really think that kind of kinky, pervert is out hunting for marriage material? He's a guy and she's presumably got a working vagina so personalities are really not that relevant.

As for Short Round, I genuinely like him and I think the affection that Indy has for him is very sweet to watch. It's nice to see that Jones has a paternal side with it also being interesting to witness how similar his parenting is to his own father’s. Both Indy and Dr. Henry Jones prioritise teaching their kid independence which might also explain why we never see Short Round again. Either the child has been taught to stand on his own two feet or more likely Jones one day swapped him for a couple of camels at the market. The desert is a big place, if you're going to brave it you'll be needing something to fuck... Camels keep better secrets than little Japanese boys.

These two characters don't annoy me because throughout the film we're taking the piss out of them. Plus has anyone else seen The Fifth Element? I think once you've seen Chris Tucker in that then nobody ever seems annoying again. No matter what bible-bashing pain in the arse knocks on my front door, the first thing I always think is ‘Thank God it's not Chris Tucker’. If I can't see what that whiney slab of noise is doing, then there's always a chance he's just been killed in a car accident. I'm not saying that's what I'd want but just that's it's possible... In comparison, I think Willie could only be as irritating as Tucker if she stuck some bagpipes up her fanny and gassed out an hour long queef of sloppy, Scottish pain.

However- just because I don't mind those two doesn't mean I think the film is perfect. The main baddy doesn't show up for the first hour and even then we don't get to know him properly. He's kind of like Darth Maul in that he puts in a brief appearance, looks cool and then dies. It's not that I want to start dating these characters but it would be nice to know how they became the tattooed bloody rotters that they did. Mola Ram is the big-bad in Temple of Doom and yet he basically only pops up for a cameo at the end. Kind of like turning up at your own birthday party just to announce you're going home. Although I guess it's not too much of a problem because like a birthday party, everyone else is already having a good time without you.

Temple of Doom is so much fun that it deserves its status as a bona-fide classic. If music bypasses our logic and hits us directly in the emotion then this film heads straight for our inner youth and gives it a kick up the arse. It's well made, exciting, funny and everything you could want from an Indiana Jones film. I do like Kingdom of the Crystal Skull but there's no doubting that this film looks even better when compared to a bomb-proof fridge, pixelated gophers and renowned actual cannibal Shit laBeef swinging with the monkeys.

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