Tony Scott is a bit
like my old pet rabbit. I didn't know how much I loved either of them
until the day they committed suicide. Obviously they chose different
methods to end their own life but I guess the result was still the
same. In fact, my rabbit’s death was more of a metaphorical tribute
to Marlon Brando's career, if we're being completely honest. He got
old, fat and lazy, refused to move, started shitting himself and
eventually got maggots up his arse and died. But the fact remains
that from the day that both my rabbit and Tony Scott concluded their
story, I realised I was going to miss them. Previously I'd dismissed
Scott as being the director of mostly dumb action films, which he
obviously was. However this isn't a reason to dismiss him, it's a
reason to celebrate him. I don't know if you've noticed but life is
fucking shit! Let me summarise our human existence for you... It
goes, birth, stress, stress, stress, stress, stress, death. It's why
millionaire directors jump off bridges, why cute little rabbits shit
themselves to death, and why I'm so grateful for dumb action movies.
At the end of a long hard week I think that a pizza and a film that
doesn't require my brain is the best way to relax. Well either that
or a blow job, but I'm single, a geek and unlike DVDs I sadly can't
buy blow jobs off Amazon.com.