Things Were The Way They Should Be

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Like going for a massage and finding yourself being tugged off before you leave, the end of Toy Story 3 was absolutely perfect. So why the fuck would anybody make a Toy Story 4? The trilogy had concluded with Woody and the toys accepting that their life with Andy was over as they watched him drive off into the distance. Where could you possibly go next? Does Andy come home as a paedophile, grab his old toys back, and use them to lure in the local children? Meanwhile in this scenario, his toys would have to decide whether or not they can reveal their true consciousness to intervene, whilst also coming to terms with the fact that the child they loved has grown up to be a monster? Because that's the only logical way that I can think of Toy Story 4 having anything interesting or new to say. Each of the three films have so far told the exact same story in that they're about one or more toys getting lost and having to find their way home. Meanwhile, there's an extra layer of existential subtext in there in which the franchise spoon feeds you the bullshit lessons of life. The first movie taught us that we're not unique or special, the second that we will be abandoned by the people that we love, and the third that finally, we will die. But if we remember that quote from pretentious wall painter Banksy, “you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time”. This might present itself as being nothing more than a children's film but with Toy Story 4 it seems that it's time for Woody to experience his second fucking death.

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Lifting Your Spirits

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Pixar's Coco tells the story of a Mexican family that have been dramatically let down by a musician, which is something that I'm sure we can all relate to. Especially if you're also a Morrissey fan and are finding it increasingly difficult to defend the mad-bastard comments that he keeps making. Here however they're simply hurt by a family member that picked up his guitar and fucked off to pursue his musical ambitions instead of staying to be with them. As a result the family has banned all forms of music from being enjoyed within their vicinity, which includes stifling Miguel, the youngest member of their family, and his dreams of playing guitar. All of this seems a bit harsh to me. Everybody gets fucked by something at some point but at no point did my great-grandmother ever ban me from being impregnated by a sailor with the clap. Despite this, Miguel still sneaks into the loft when everybody is asleep in order to practice guitar against his families wishes. Again.. what young boy hasn't hidden himself away during the night so that he can strum his instrument? Eventually his family discover his secret and in a moment of pure rage his grandmother grabs his guitar and smashes it against the floor. I actually got really angry at this bit. Miserable old knobhead. Miguel should have smashed something that she loves to teach her a lesson. Her fucking fragile bitch hips for example..

Roger Moore... I Miss Him Already

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I have no clue when you'll be reading this, but for me as I write, it is the 23^rd Of May 2017. Sadly this is the day that Sir Roger Moore departed our mortal world for the giant Martini bar in the sky and the day that we lost our first real James Bond. Already I've had several friends message me in condolence; my Mum phoned me up to make sure I was okay, and a work colleague gave me a hug from behind as I was sat at my desk. Although during this hug the work colleague also started to fondle my nipples so there's a good chance that it was more of an opportunistic attempt at sexual harassment than an effort to actually comfort me. If only I'd had three nipples then arguably it would have been a fitting tribute.

Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix

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So in this, film Harry is confused and disturbed by the fact that he's found himself dreaming of an older man. Sure it might be the man that killed his Mum, Dad, and at least one fellow student, but I'd still make fun of him for it if I was his friend. Hey, I have a joke that I thought up whilst watching this film. It goes...

Q- Voldemort has no nose. How does he smell?

A- Of the blood of Harry's parents!

Anyway, because of comments like that, Harry spends most of this movie being pretty pissed off. At one point he even worries if his anger is proof that he has a lot more in common with Voldemort than he'd like to admit to. I wouldn't worry about it mate.. being constantly angry isn't proof of a magical connection to your parents' killer. The other day I nearly smashed the office up just because I was the only person in work not to get offered a fucking biscuit. To add to this however, he's probably also pretty pissed off that nobody believes him about Voldemort's return which seems fair enough on his part. The last film ended with him having won what was essentially his school's sports day when he returned holding the corpse of a fellow competitor. I guess the idiots watching just assumed that was what you won in that competition. In which case, fuck them.. I'd take my prized Diggory home and mount him in the bathroom where I keep my other fucking trophies.

Star Trek 7: Generations

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Star Trek 7: Generations - what the fuck is it about?

So this is the film in which Kirk and Picard manage to team up after Kirk is struck by what I'll call some 'contrivance-lightning' that conveniently sends him into the future. Although if you've been watching these movies chronologically, you can see that age alone has already been sending Shatner into the future pretty fucking quickly. Moments before this happens, a retired Kirk was doing a tour of the Enterprise when things went a little titties up. They attempt to save some other ships from a weird space-cloud by arriving with only seconds to spare and getting themselves instantly stuck in it too. That's not the mistake, though. I mean.. that's just stupidity. I guess you can't expect these people to be.. you know.. rocket scientists. The mistake is that, of the few people they manage to rescue, one of them is Malcolm McDowell. Because he's never played a crazy before, has he? Well except in every other fucking film he's ever appeared in. McDowell plays a creature here that's able to live an extraordinarily long life and so is able to survive travelling into the future to piss about with Picard. I mean, McDowell's rotting haggardy face certainly screams “man who refuses to die”. And to think, all it took to look the part was a decade-long smack habit.

So was it shit or not then?

Well I was excited to see this movie because I really wanted to see Shatner act alongside Patrick Stewart. I mean, I'm fans of them both however in terms of their style, I imagined it'd be as weird as a comedy double-act featuring Doug Stanhope alongside Barry Chuckle. And I was right. Stewart is doing his usual thing of drawing on his Shakespearean background whereas Shatner is fighting against the giant throbbing cock of self-parody. I was right; it was weird. The problem is that, as combinations go, it wasn't the good kind of weird, like sticking pineapple on a pizza, but rather the bad kind like you know.. sticking a good actor alongside William Shatner.

It doesn't help either that the film takes fucking yonks to build up to this moment, and then when it happens it's a bizarre mix of strange and boring. Because rather than being sent directly to the future, Kirk is living in a dimension in which he's living out an idealised version of his own life and that the future simply has access to. When we meet him, he seems excited because in this existence his dead dog is alive again. And it seems to be alive simply because he loved it so much. That's nice. I mean it's a shame that he seems to have forgotten about his dead son, but oh well.

And then we get to the death of Kirk, which is one of the least dignified conclusions since I was in school and I noticed that one of the other kids had finished a run after soiling himself. Kirk has to be one of the most iconic pop-culture characters of all time, and he dies simply because a crappy metal bridge collapses with him on it. I mean, I know he's put weight on over the last few films, but still. I'd say the character deserved more than that, especially seems as he adds pretty much nothing else to the plot at all. It's as though the movie only exists to have the two captains together and give one a good send off, and yet where these two's goals are concerned, the film is sadly like my school chum's post-run arse-hole, because it completely failed.

The rest of the film is also pretty forgettable with the exception of a sub-plot involving Data. He's a robot that accidentally fucks up an upgrade that was meant to have him feel emotions. The result is that, like this film as a whole, his mood is all over the place. I did find the way in which he'll go from laughter to the verge of tears in the space of a second pretty funny though. Although that could simply be because it reminded me of my Mum after a drink.

Why Did Amy Winehouse Die?

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“Amy Winehouse died from an overdose? Of course she did. Fuck her, the stupid bitch.” That generally seemed to be the sympathetic response from my parents' generation when news broke of the singers death. Nothing seems to annoy my own Mum more than when a financially successful person succumbs to their own monsters and kicks the bucket. It's as though they see mental illness as being the same as watching Steve Irwin get bitten after sticking his cock into an alligators eye. I agree that if you play with matches then there's a chance that you'll get burned but with addiction, it seems like getting burned is kind of the point. In which case perhaps there's a good possibility that the underlying motive is a little more self-destructive and tragic than simply trying to annoy anonymous members of the public.. and my Mum. I have actually encountered addicts who have entered into a rehab program and can honestly say that it's one of the most profound things that I've ever been involved with. These people are valiantly attempting to find a state of mind and normality that we all take for granted. These are the ones that see choosing life as an improvement to their current situation. There's nothing that will highlight the grim reality of a persons existence than seeing them fight to become part of a world that's undeniably as fucking miserable as this one.

Robin Williams Was Misrepresented By The Masses

When Robin Williams died there was a genuine outpouring of love and mourning for a man that seemed to be genuinely close to most peoples hearts. For me, I'd say the key to this though is that most people are idiots. They saw his shit films when they were younger and yet to develop a true appreciation of cinema. Bear with me with this... I'm not a prick- I'm going somewhere! Most people aren't interested in the French New Wave or the history of German expressionism. I've tried to watch films several times with my Mum since I became obsessed with the medium and every time was a complete failure. She made me turn off Taxi Driver because it was old, Superman Returns because she remembered there were dishes to wash, and Memento because to quote her “What the fuck is going on”. I understand the problem though and it's simply that most people have more of a life than I do. Films for the masses are just a mixture of light and colours that can be stared at until we're all a little closer to death. In that respect, I suppose there's no way that Flubber can't be said to have done its job. It wasn't funny, well made, or in any way tolerable, but there's no denying that it had a duration.

The Shadows Smile

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If I've learnt one thing in my life it's that if you use the word 'sausage' with anger then nobody will ever take you seriously. I saved myself a sausage for lunch once but by the time I got to it somebody had already cooked and eaten it. I don't know about you but when I'm pissed off, I need people to be apologetic and sorrowful or there's a good chance that I'll begin to over-react. In this instant, I didn't get the response I was hoping for and so what started off as a mild irritation quickly escalated into a full blown shit-fit. The angrier I got, the funnier people seemed to find the phrase “Where's my fucking sausage gone”. I don't think I'll ever fully get over this situation and even now I have abandonment issues where my pork-based snacks are concerned. It was a horrible circle of innuendo, hunger, a lack of perspective, a lack of empathy, and an annoying lack of sausage. I don't remember how the situation ended but based on how angry I was, I probably blacked out.

What Could Go Wrong?

When I was younger I asked my Mum how Corned Beef was made to which she replied, “You don't want to know”. I have never eaten it since. Apparently all it is, is beef treated with corns of salt however by leaving it up to my imagination, I created the worst possible scenario. With as little information as possible available, to me, Corned Beef appeared to be the cow’s tits having been fucked off by a randy farmer and left to fester in soupy bucket of bull-spunk and diseased farmyard shit. Interestingly this is kind of like a cinematic technique used in horror movies during which filmmakers cunningly imply violence allowing the audiences imagination to fill in the gaps. For example, in Psycho's famous shower scene, not once do we actually witness the knife penetrate Janet Leigh's body but instead it is simply suggested so heavily that we think we did. Opposing this school of thought however, is Sam Raimi whose entire career has been based on the idea of showing more than we really needed to see. His first film was of course The Evil Dead which was famously made for so little money that, to match the budget now, all you'd need is a few hours on your knees in an alley with a lonely stranger. With that in mind you'd expect Raimi to take the cheaper option of having most of the violence happen off screen as a way of avoiding the cost of effects. In Psycho I only thought I'd witnessed a full on stabbing however with The Evil Dead I very definitely saw a tree get shoved up some screaming girl’s minge.

Since its release in 1981, Raimi's infamous gorefest has gone on to become a cult classic and personally, I fucking love it. I mean perhaps the branch-up-the-vadge was a slight mistake but there's no doubting that The Evil Dead is a masterpiece just brimming with fun, blood, bile and random green gunky shit. However there's also no doubting that over the last thirty years the film has aged pretty badly. The effects are still impressive but they're hardly photorealistic and I'm pretty sure the only people who'll be frightened by it now are those with a life threatening allergy to mushy peas. Though for me, that's not an issue with the clunky stop-motion look only adding to its handmade charm. The actors too where never of the highest quality with the only decent performance coming from a man who is ten-percent human and ninety-percent chin. However if you can only afford one good actor in your entire movie then Bruce Campbell is very definitely the one you'd want.

Starring Mickey Rourke...

In general, the idea of remaking a classic horror film fills me with a  kind of rage that makes blood drip from my ears and hate leak from my soul. The original Amityville Horror was a nun-puking-load-of-bollocks and yet somehow the 2005 remake managed to be even duller. I don't even want to talk about the Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake because it's too traumatic for me. I've locked the idea of that crappy movie away in the little box of forgotten memories I keep in my brain along with childhood trauma and explanations to my burn-scars. However in the case of The Evil Dead, I awaited it with a kind of optimistic open-mindedness. I figured that at least Raimi was heavily involved with this new one and he'd already pretty successfully remade the film himself with the equally classic Evil Dead 2. Not only that but his reason for wanting to make it again was because of how badly aged the first one has now become. Like I say, I love the shittiness of the original but there is something interesting about seeing it with modern effects and hopefully better acting. I suppose on top of all that, the reason I didn't approach this remake with arse clenching anxiety was because like all the others it wasn't produced by cinematic mega-cunt Michael Bay.

This new Evil Dead begins with a gang of youths holidaying at a cabin in the woods whilst one of their junkie friends goes cold turkey. Obviously this can be quite a tough experience to go through and so it'd be best to do it in a calm, controlled environment. The stupid retards however instead select the most clichéd horror movie setting possible. I'm assuming that an ancient Indian burial ground, nuclear testing site and Joseph Fritzl's basement had already been booked out that weekend. Also I've never had to try and give up a smack habit before but if I ever do, I think I'd prefer a place that didn't have a basement full of cats hanging from the ceiling. I know animals are meant to be therapeutic but I don't think that's still the case if their eyes are popping out of their strangled blue heads. Just to make life a little more interesting, the gang also decide to read from a book that unleashes a shitload of evil demons. I guess in general if you find a book in which somebody has scrawled “don't read this motherfucking shit”, then perhaps it'd be best to put it down and just wait for its film adaptation instead. I found a blood stained threat identical to that in a book once which is why I'm still yet to read The Da Vinci Code.

So having now seen it I guess the biggest question is, is it good enough to justify its existence? Well if I was being generous, I guess I'd say it probably just about is. As I mentioned, Raimi's goal was to remake the film with modern day effects so that he could make something as scary as the original originally was. Well on the first point, the film is very definitely a success as the gore is fucking mental. Blood is casually sprayed everywhere and people puke shit up like they're having a pressure competition at a bulimics convention. There's also a few scenes in which people quickly rip off their own arms as though we're watching a Danny Boyle movie in fast-forward and on crack. However, for me at least this Evil Dead just wasn't scary in the slightest. Stephen King famously described the original as being, “the ultimate experience in gruelling terror”, which this very much wasn't. Nor does this film fix the main issue of the tree rape scene which is simply redone but to a point where the branch goes all the way up the new girl’s vagina and confusingly never comes out or is mentioned again.

"Hey kids!"

But despite all that I genuinely found the film to be really good fun. Once it gets going, the pace of the thing is absolutely relentless and I think the violence is genuinely inventive. I also liked that because the main character was going cold turkey, everybody assumed her first demon attack was either bullshit or just the fevered delusions of a desperate smack-head. Unlike the first film there was no one person here to root for but to be honest I was quite happy to watch all the new characters get chopped up. I'd much prefer a new cast of faceless meat puppets than see anybody new attempt to play the original’s Ash. There's only one man groovy enough to play him and sadly he's at an age where it'd end up being the creepiest thing in the film if he was hanging out with a group of teenagers. In fact by having completely new characters, this new film almost plays out as a kind of sequel in which a fresh group of morons stay in the same cabin with their fates playing out in a slightly different way. I mean they still end up as the main ingredients to cheap supermarket burgers but it's nice that there was some variation from what was expected.

If the new film lets itself down slightly it's that it goes on for about ten minutes too many and accidentally descends dangerously close to the formula of Michael Bay's crappy remakes. It also works too hard at saving the life of a character that I pretty much had nothing invested in anyway. There's a bit where the junkie actually dies but is brought back to life by being stabbed in the heart with a syringe attached to a car battery. I mean if resurrection is that fucking easy then I can't help but think that the NHS is being severely over-funded. Like I say though, I did enjoy the film and I'd like to think it might encourage at least some people to go back and discover the originals. I guess you could argue that this film is a little clichéd but then the The Evil Dead invented the clichés so that really can't be helped. The only way to avoid that issue would be to be subvert it instead but then that wouldn't be an Evil Dead remake but a Cabin In The Woods remake and it's certainly too soon to be rehashing that.

Like I've said, I personally did enjoy it but as a fan of the original- if you go in hoping to be disappointed then you more than likely will be. If it wasn't for the title, I'm sure this film would be forgotten in time but for the ninety minutes it was on I certainly enjoyed myself. Perhaps it was directed by some bloke called Fede Alvarez but Raimi's influence definitely shines through. I've no idea where they're going to go in the sequel, but for now let’s just appreciate that unlike other horror remakes, this was not a complete mess. It won't swallow your soul but if you've got an old student card to fraudulently claim the discount, it's certainly worth at least five quid.

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We Are The Gods Now

Just so you know there's a few little spoilers in this.

The big question about Prometheus since its conception has been whether or not it's an Alien prequel. The way the two films relationship has been repeatedly confirmed and denied it was like listening to a reluctant father trying to dodge child maintenance. They would admit there might be similar strands of DNA but refused to simply confirm it as the original’s offspring. In all honesty, having seen the film, they are kind of right - if Prometheus was conceived via turkey baster then it wasn't just Alien spunk that was shot up there. It seems that somebody's also wanked a mouthfull of Blade Runner, 2001 a space odyssey and also bizarrely Sunshine.

The film starts with the creation of the human race. Now, if the Bible is to be believed, our species was created when God invented Adam and Eve and their children all went mad and fucked each other. However according to Prometheus, we began thanks to the sacrifice of an Alien who drinks some black goo, falls into a lake and explodes out our genetic make-up. The Alien in question is who we geeks have referred to as the Space Jockey since 1979 and who we now see prancing about in the buff. It turns out those elephant-man fossils found in the original were his suit and not actually his head. When out in the nip, he looks less like John Merrick and more like the ivory statue that would have slid out of Liza Minnelli's vagina had Michael Jackson been biologically able to fuck her. Like everybody in the production for Prometheus, I'm going to ignore the similarities between this set up and the theory behind the costly, new-fangled religion of Scientology. However seeing a film that confirms our existence as a result of aliens would probably give John Travolta an erection so big you'd assume he's about to spread open his arse cheeks and ask for a massage. Again. Although to be honest I'd rather do that than sit through the suicidally awful Battlefield Earth again.

Cut to some years later and suddenly evidence of our creators is found by the girl without a dragon tattoo. Noomi Rapace discovers cave paintings from them which show the location of their home planet and what she assumes is an invitation to come visit. I'm no scientist but if I was her, I'd probably learn the alien for, “Stay the fuck away” before I just popped round for a cup of tea and a chin-wag. However being a religious character, she obviously assumes a whole lot of things and so instead of doing the proper risk assessment, follows her gut instinct and sets off for a catch up.

The mission to visit our ‘engineers’ is financed by the Weyland Industries who are flying the crew there on their ship, which is stupidly named Prometheus. Whilst the crew sleeps through the journey they are watched over by David- an android butler played to perfection by Michael Fassbender. David's personality is that of a slightly pissed of David Bowie possessed by Hal 9000 and designed by the Nazis. With his Aryan good-looks and willingness to follow any orders, David is basically Hitler’s one-balled wet-dream and consequentially, the best thing about this film. Knowing Fassbender is an android definitely explains the milky white substance shooting out of him in Shame. For one horrible second I assumed it was jizz but I guess he was just malfunctioning - kind of like how Gary Glitter malfunctioned in Vietnam, when he shagged all those kids, if you remember that.

When they arrive at their destination, it doesn't take long to figure out that things aren't going to end very well. I don't know if it's the moody landscape, the gothic architecture or the aggressive snake monsters that snap peoples arms and bleed acid, but something just isn't right. Nor for now is there any sign of the steroid infected Voldemorts who supposedly invited us to the party in the first place. As the crew explores the area they start to suspect that our Gods are dead and were most likely nasty cunts in the first place. This would be a sign for me to leave right away and reflect on the trip at home by uploading my LV-223 holiday photos to Facebook and laughing about them. Commenting that Millburn deep throated a snake like a ravenous Paris Hilton, or that Holloway died of terminal pink-eye sounds like fun. However curiosity killed the cat and these inquisitive twats just won't take a hint. If I went ‘round to a mates house and all I found was his decapitated head, I'd probably assume it was a bad time and leave. Scientists however, being nerdy and socially maladjusted simply stick the head in a bag and continue rummaging around like a randy Schwarzenegger with the key to his house keeper’s knicker-draw.

Since Prometheus's release the reviews have been average to good with the usual backlash from the internet geeks, however I personally really enjoyed the film and although it might not be the classic that Alien is, it's certainly the third-best film in the franchise. Compared to Alien Resurrection’s blockbuster sensibilities and shitty looking new-born, with its Skeletor face and saggy milk tits, Prometheus drags us back into ‘classy’ territory. Like Alien, this is a slow burning horror thriller with an eye for detail and a weird (but understandable) fear of pregnancy. However like 2001, this has grander ideas which aim to look at the meaning of life and who we are as a race. The original was less interested in these themes and more interested in who’s going to have a giant dick poke out of their chest next. People think that Alien is about the male fear of rape however with John Hurt’s pink helmeted protrusion, I think it's more about involuntary erections and the trouble they can cause.

If there's one thing I don't understand, it's why the ship they travel on is called Prometheus… They're going to meet some Gods and so name themselves after a guy who did the same and ended up having his liver pecked out for eternity. It's the same issue with Icarus in Sunshine! In that film, they are flying to the sun in order to nuke it back to life and so name their ship after some tosser who died flying too close to the sun. Is that not just tempting fate? Surely that's like us naming the Titanic the “Ice Breaker” or inventing a gas powered bathroom and naming it “The Holocaust”. I wouldn't use a type of condom called “The Cum Leaker”, so why would they fly on those ships named after their own failure?

The other issue I had with this film was the appearance of an old Peter Weyland played by Guy Pearce. At no point did he appear in a younger guise so why not just have some old actor play him? According to the IMDb trivia, a sequence was filmed involving the younger Weyland but cut from the final film. I would say that you could just have Guy Pearce play the younger version separately however also according to IMDb, Max Von Sydow was considered for the part first. Now bearing in mind he hasn't changed a fucking wrinkle in the last 40 years, I'd buy him as both the older and younger versions of himself. At least more so than old man Pearce who looks like someone's sculpted a live action statue of Mr Burns out of dried up shit and stuffed it into a speckled condom. I can only assume that this is another one of Guy Pearce's films we're not meant to notice he's in like The Road and Hurt Locker. I can't be sure but by the amount of roles he's secretly played, I can only assume he's running some sort of crafty benefit scam. You might be able to take the boy out of Australia but you can never remove the reinforced criminal attitude out of a boy raised in a prison.

What I did however like was how upfront Weyland Industries were in their sinisterness. Having seen four films in which they prove themselves as trustworthy as Winona Ryder in a clothes store, I guess there was no point hiding it anymore. This ulterior motive is made open by Charlize Theron's ice-bitch Meredith Vickers who considerately flame throws one character to death like an impatient fatty on Summer’s single barbecue day. By doing this, she comes across as a heartless trout for not allowing an infected character back on board the ship, however if you ask me, a person turning black and screaming “kill me” is probably grounds to suspect their illness is more than an iffy tummy or a precursor to the shits and so should be quarantined. What's interesting is that Ripley in Alien does the exact same thing regarding John Hurts character. If only she had the balls to go as far as Vickers did then it wouldn't have been the entire crew that died too.

Speaking of Vickers’ balls, I'm not sure why the medical pod in her private room was set to male only. From the moment she turns up it seems there is more to her than she's letting on but I assumed the secret was something to do with Peter Weyland and not that big slab of cock and bollocks down her pants. Unfortunately, that meaty secret is never revealed however the medical pod is the setting for the films best scene. Noomi Rapace's whimsical abortion was a scene of sheer horror genius. The way the pod’s arm removes a squid out of her stomach like a crappy claw machine was amazing. If the grabber games were that good at our arcades, I'd consider going more often. As it stands, our arcades are depressing places filled with old men losing their saved pennies, eating oranges and dribbling. Although this scene might not quite match the terror of Aliens original, it's still brilliant and shows how our technology has evolved from soapy water and a rusty coat hanger. It's also good to see a woman who thinks pregnancy through logically and refuses to let her decision be decided by girly old emotions. If I could only sleep with girls like that, I'd feel much happier about it all. In fact if any girls would just sleep with me full-stop, I'd probably feel much happier about things in general.

As everybody seems to be pointing out; this film isn't perfect, however even if you hate everything else, it's worth the time simply for David. He's an android whose actions and likeability lie somewhere between Ash and Bishop, however I have no idea what he was doing throughout. I don't know why he was spiking drinks and then refusing abortions like the Chinese bitch in Juno as he seemed to pay no attention to Rapace removing the thing herself. I'm sure though that this is my problem and I just missed a few plot points. People have said he was acting on behalf of Weyland but even he didn't seem to give a shit about her successful visit to the medical pod. If anybody knows what was going on then let me know as £7 is quite expensive to have to see a film again. It's not that I'm tight with my money but seeing people donate money to street-tramps does make me feel sick. And want to vomit down my chest. Onto my own balls. Hate it.

In the end, Ridley Scott’s return to sci-fi has, in my opinion, been successful. Sure, this isn't up there with Alien or Blade Runner but really, what is? Compare this to George Lucas's attempts at making a prequel to a 30 year old sci-fi film and suddenly things look a lot brighter. Prometheus has big ideas, impressive set pieces and takes place in a world so visually brilliant that it could only come from the mind of Scott. Sure it doesn't have the same suffocating sense of dread as the original but nor has it introduced an offensive Jamaican stereotype that's meant to provide humour whilst acting like a cunt. Based on this new film, I'm looking forward to watching what will hopefully be a separate franchise, especially because I've no idea how they will do the sequel. Judging by the fact that it could simply star Rapace and Fassbender's decapitated head, I'm hoping it will switch genres like Aliens did and become a romcom. As a couple in love, they'd certainly be more believable than Katherine Heigl was in any film she's ever been in with any man ever, so why the fuck not?

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