From Capitalist To Naturalist

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John Hammond, the creator of the original Jurassic Park, was a fucking moron. He brings the dinosaurs back to life and decides that the best thing to do with them is to stick them in a theme park? Who thinks like that?! That's like being the first person to meet a martian and deciding that the best thing to do is to stick it in a lap dancing club and charge people to watch it jiggle its massive space tits. After spending a fortune on this park he then decides to try and run it with about five people after sending his own grandchildren out on a test-run. To make matters worse he has a big fat fucker in charge of security that he actively seems to hate and who seems dissatisfied with his work load and pay. Hammond literally may as well have handed his staff pictures of himself going nuts deep in the dinosaurs' egg-pooping-holes because it's seemingly obvious that he wants to be blackmailed and this way'll be safer for everyone else. Had all of this somehow worked out and the Park opened though, it seems that the dopey fucker had also built the thing on an active fucking volcano. I presume the exploding island that he bought must have been slightly cheaper than the other options of a nuclear testing site and an ancient Native American burial ground. Sadly for all involved, the creator of Jurassic World saw every dumb thing that Hammond did and thought, “Fuck it.. I reckon he was just unlucky”.

Bashing The Monkey

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With the exception of that time that I was working in a pub during some bloke's Stag night and I thought we'd just been raided by the police, I can honestly say that I have never seen a stripper in my life. However I imagine that they probably share a slight similarity with monster movies, in that 90% of what they do is a tease before revealing everything for the final 10%. So with a monster movie, you get a shot of a foot, then a silhouette, and then maybe a close up of an eye. Finally, and at the point that a stripper would be popping out her titty-boom-booms, you'll get the full body shot of the creature before it's swiftly destroyed with an A-bomb. Kong: Skull Island however spunks its wad up the wall before the opening title has even come up as during its first five minutes we essentially see Kong in all of his glory. In many ways, this is one of the more brilliant aspects of the movie because we're now left wondering where is left to go? If a stripper walks into a pub by opening the door with her already exposed peachy wah-wah's then what the hell is her show actually going to be? Well, in the case of Skull Island, what follows is an all-out orgy of weird creatures, adventure, and action. If a stripper were to follow the logic of this movie then I can only imagine that she'd leave the pub in a police van having turned the venue into a scene from fucking Caligula.

And It Was The Best

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Hunt For The Wilderpeople is a film about two people on a journey, which is ironic because I had to go on a journey to find this fucking movie. Despite looking more shite than a little brown lump in a particularly smelly kitty-litter box, Nine Lives is still playing in my local cinema well over a month since it was dumped onto the Earth. Are people really paying to see that? Because even though I'd heard that it was one of the best films of the year, Hunt For The Wilderpeople was only playing in the nearest art-house cinema to me, and I'm not sure why! I mean, it's not like the film is obscure or designed only for the most cine-literate of movie geeks. It's about a mismatched couple bickering on an adventure. Not only is this the set-up for most movies, it's relatable too as I was bickering with my friend as we were forced on our journey to see this film. Although, in the film the two characters bicker because of their water-and-oil personalities, me and my friend bickered because he couldn't understand why it was inappropriate to frantically scratch cheese stains off his crotch when we're on a crowded fucking train.

No Expense Spared

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Now, before we go any further, I feel I should point out that I think that Jurassic Park is perfect in every single way. If you told me now that there was a movie starring Sam Neill, Jeff Goldblum, Laura Dern and Richard Attenborough then I'd have my pants off and my pop-corn ready before you even got to the title. If you then told me that the cast would then spend the bulk of the movie running away from huge dinosaurs then I'd probably just start crying due to how flawless that idea is. Sobbing whilst naked from the waist down really is the only proper way to react to a plot description of Jurassic Park. It has a fat man falling down a waterfall, a triceratops with the shits, and a sneaky, ninja T-Rex at the end. What more could anybody ever want from a movie?! The sequels decreased in quality as the franchise marched on but I'd argue that they were still never less than good. Sure Jurassic Park 3 isn't the best but it's not much worse than Jurassic Park: The Lost World. Neither films might reach the heights of the groundbreaking original but they both have their moments. The scene in which Julianne Moore falls onto a sheet of cracking glass is one of unbelievable tension, and if you don't like the idea of a dinosaur that's eaten a phone and now has his own ringtone, then I don't think we're ever going to get along. 

Crazy As Hell

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There are two directors with similar names and who have had two very different careers. The first is Paul Thomas Anderson and the other is Paul W.S.Anderson. Paul Thomas Anderson is the man behind such masterpieces as There Will Be Blood and Magnolia whereas W.S. Anderson is responsible for such shite as AVP: Alien Vs. Predator and the ball-haemorrhagingly dull Resident Evil. Anyway, so if you too find it difficult to keep track of which is which, I have a handy little tip to help you remember. Just imagine that P.T stands for Pretty Terrific whereas as W.S stands for Wanky Shit. It works for me, so you're welcome! Anyway- bearing in mind that I know the poor fucker as Paul Wanky Shit Anderson, I was always curious about his 1997 sci-fi film Event Horizon. There really is no denying how crap his films are however this one seems to have become a bit of a cult hit and not just in a The Room style 'what-a-load-of-shite-that-is' way. Not only that but I listen to a lot of podcasts because they're easier to deal with than real friends and Empire Magazine's one bangs on about this film almost every week. I therefore decided to gamble an hour and a half of my life on their recommendation... Although fuck it, I'm single so it's not like I had anything better planned than tossing off and having a cry.

Why Are You All Wet, Baby?

Sometimes having a twist at the end of a film is a great idea; Who'd have thought it was the cripple? They were they same person all along? So Sarah Jessica Parker wasn't a horse? Twists are clever little devices that make a film seem smarter and change the context of everything. The trick to a good twist is to therefore allow the film to stand up to repeat viewings with the audience’s fresher perspective. A good example of this would be Christopher Nolan’s Memento in which we find out who has been giving Lenny the duff information regarding John G.

When the culprit is revealed, it is both shocking, logical and character building. Although if you're going to give dodgy facts, why hint towards killing John G? If it was me, I'd tattoo clues like ‘fired as editor from the Daily Mirror’, ‘name P. Morgan’, ‘face like a lesbian toad that's been moulded onto a fresh poo’.

However, in the same way as having a cock shaped like a pigs tail, a twist at the end isn't always a nice surprise. A bad example would be finding out that Bruce Willis was a ghost all along. I know we were all impressed by that the first time around but the more you watch The 6^th Sense the stupider it seems. For a start, if he is dead then how did he find out about the kid’s need for a psychologist and why was the kid not seeing a real psychologist too? And secondly, how did he not notice that since being shot by the nudist nutter, nobody has spoken one word to him. If I was Bruce Willis and I walked the streets for more than two minutes without someone shouting, “Yippee ki-yay, motherfucker” then it'd seem only logical I was as dead as a turd. In fact, I think the only person who shouldn't assume they're alive when ignored for so long is Tarantino and that's only because he seems to not shut the fuck up long enough to allow anybody else a word in edge ways.

Shutter Island is the fourth film to be directed by Scorsese and star DiCaprio who since 2002 seems to have been prescribed like methadone to wean him off heavy doses of DeNiro. The story begins in 1954 with DiCaprio's Teddy Daniels heading towards a large prison island which unfortunately doesn't mean he's on his jollies to Australia. Instead he's about to investigate a mental asylum for a prisoner who has allegedly escaped their cell and disappeared. In charge of this island is the chameleonic Ben Kingsley who is once again physically unrecognisable. This time Sir Ben has cunningly taken on the guise of a bald man with a large nose and a little goatee beard.

As Teddy investigates the island he starts to suspect there is a larger conspiracy at play. It seems that each clue he uncovers points to the Asylum actually being a cover for holocaust-like experimentations. This is a theory which seems to be confirmed in Teddy's mind by the appearance of acting legend Max Von Sydow. Personally I think the most suspicious thing about Sydow is that he hasn't aged a fucking day since about 1973. However, what grabs Teddy's attention is that he speaks with a German accent and.. so.. therefore, must be a Nazi. To be fair whenever we meet a German, that is what we all think isn't it? Even if I was talking to the German humanitarian of the year as they received a pre-death saint hood, I'd still be picturing them with a toothbrush moustache and a swastika arm patch.

It's not that I think all Germans are Nazis but that I can't help but associate the two. In fact the last time I met a German the first thing I did was wave in a manner which I couldn't help but think accidentally looked like a Nazi salute. Meanwhile my friend tried to impress them by speaking the German phrase, “Arbeit macht frei”. In English that means, “Work sets you free” which, as he realised too late, was the slogan above the gates to Auschwitz. I guess we just kept putting our foot in it which is a little bit different to Teddy who seems to want Sydow to be condemned at the Nuremberg trial for simply having a bit of an accent.

Teddy however has a genuine excuse for his more violent out bursts of racism having witnessed first hand the atrocities of a concentration camp. In fact, it's Teddy’s flashbacks and hallucinations which prove to be the most interesting aspects of the film. Not only is he traumatised by his experiences of World War 2 he is also haunted by the memory of his now dead partner. Once again Michelle Williams pops up as a pain in the arse wife having perfected the role of rent-a-frump in both Brokeback Mountain and Blue Valentine. This also makes her the first of two dead wives to haunt DiCaprio's subconscious after Marion Cotillard wouldn't fuck off in Inception. I guess this just proves that it's true when Louis C.K. says that, “Women are non-violent but they will shit inside of your heart”.

In all honesty, everything about Shutter Island is great. It's a well made throw away B-movie with great acting, a suitably gloomy mood and a cool 1950's Hitchcock kind of look to it. It sort of exists in that little genre somewhere between thriller and horror. On the one hand it's a mystery movie and on the other it's set in an asylum where Ted Levine is a prison guard. You know if Silence of the Lambs’  Buffalo Bill is one of the sane ones then the inmates must be pretty fucking mental. There is in fact one scene in which the power goes down and they are all released from their cells. It's a bit like that scene in Jurassic Park but instead of dinosaurs running around, it’s people who like to paint pictures with shit and masturbate to their granny’s knickers.

If there's one thing that could make or break this film it is the inevitable twist at the end. For anyone who hasn't seen this movie then I'm about to ruin it for you so please stop reading. Seriously if you haven't seen Shutter Island and you're still here then just fuck off! What kind of cunt happily ruins a film for themselves? If you're up to this sentence and have never seen Shutter Island then I officially hate you. I bet you're the kind of cunt who goes hunting for their Christmas presents and can't keep a secret. Well, I've got a secret for you, your Mum has AIDs and she caught it from slipping your granddad’s warty cock up her arse. The twist is that not only did she love every second of it but your granddad caught AIDs from you when he cradle-fucked you as a baby.

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For those who have seen the film, then of course that above paragraph doesn't apply to you. I'm sure your mothers have never even slept with your granddads, let alone been sodomised by them. Anywho, so as it turns out, Teddy has been a crazy all along and Sir Ben has given him the freedom of the grounds to live out his detective fantasy. Now… is it just me or is that also a little bit mental? I mean, where did Sir Ben learn his managerial skills? When I was in school, the headmaster asked me to pick a half eaten hardboiled egg out of a play-ground grid with my bare hands. Just that act alone made me want to tell the cunt to get fucked and do it himself. So how Sir Ben managed to convince his staff to free one of their violent inmates, allow him to run around in a frenzy and suspect them all to be Nazis I'll never know. As Teddy first arrives at the island he say's, “You seem a little on edge Marshall”. I'm not fucking surprised he's on edge. There's a freak running around inventing a holocaust conspiracy and the boss has clearly gone fucking nuts too. If I worked on that island, I'd have the unions so far up Sir Ben's arse that they were wearing him like a Gandhi condom.

In a way, the twist doesn't really work because it's just so stupid. However the film still survives its repeat viewing simply because the characters are so strong. It's also worth it just for the moment Sir Ben randomly asks Teddy, “Why are you all wet, baby?” I'm not sure about that sexy bald beast but where I'm from that's an awfully personal question to ask a psycho with a gun. For more of Sir Ben's randomness, fans may want to check out Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time. Not only does that include him sharply turning his head like a fucking meerkat on acid but he also shouts, “Quickly” with a tone that can only come from a man about four seconds away from shitting his pants.

For any other director, this film might be like a day off from work. With its B-movie sensibilities, it could easily be cheap and not worth a repeat, however Scorsese shows as much care and craftsmanship here as when he's making films in which Jo Pesci explodes into fits of what doctors call ‘violent cunt syndrome’ (VCS). Yes it's a little bit silly but it's also good fun. Even when the story might be a little bit unbelievable, the emotions of the characters are convincingly legitimate. The film ends with DiCaprio heading for a lobotomy. If this was Leo with his brain then I'm assuming his character in the sequel will be intellectually on par with the Leo who thought Titanic would end up being a decent movie. Despite the twist, which says more about Sir Ben's judgement than Teddy's sanity, this film is still worth a watch. It might not be up there with Raging Bull but it's good to see Scorsese isn't resting on his laurels in quite the same way that his former muse De Niro is. If you've got a spare few hours and want to see film featuring another one of DiCaprio's disastrous on-screen marriages, then this is the film for you.

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The Rape of the Natural World

I don't know if it's like this everywhere, but at our nearest zoo they advertise the time that the Sea-lions are going to get fed. Everybody visiting makes an effort to get there for it as the animals put on a characteristically smug display of jumping out the water to catch the fish that a keeper is throwing for them. In comparison to the other animals, these retarded mermaids really are attention seeking little bastards.

Based on its popularity, the zoo decided to publicise this event for some of the other animals too. At 1:00pm it was time to feed the Cheetahs and so again everybody turned up with their children to watch. However rather than fish, the zoo keeper this time arrived with a wheelbarrow full of chopped up chunks of flesh, very obviously once belonging to rabbits. Unfortunately the cute little bunnies had been cut in half, leaving both their entrails dangling out and the sad, sorrowful eyes still in their heads.

One at a time a rabbit was launched decapitated, cute head first into the cage. The blood splattered everywhere and the Cheetahs leapt into action, ripping the popular family pet into even more shredded pieces. Children began to scream and cry as Flopsy and Cottonball had their necks snapped and ears audibly ripped off. Parents began to panic knowing they'd just scarred their offspring with images of this Easter Bunny holocaust. The zoo itself received several complaints and they cowardly never promoted it again. Take it from me though- it was amazing!

Based on this incident, the thing that I can't help but wonder is: what kind of shitty fucking businessman could ever think that Jurassic Park would succeed? If the public can't cope with one minor buck-toothed genocide, then what chance have they got of enjoying Billy the goat having his arse torn open by a fucking great horny T-rex?

However I suppose these were the least of the concept’s problems, as were well documented in the 1993 film of the same name. The movie begins by introducing us to the main characters who are Sam Neil, Laura Dern, Richard Attenborough and Brundlefly. As it turns out, Attenborough has managed to clone some dinosaurs using a method closer to magic than science and everyone is convinced that it makes sense after some words of endorsement from the ‘experts’. He explains the method to Dern and Neil as they dig up some of those fossils, obviously left by God to test us... For those who haven't heard that unpopular theory of theists, the basic conclusion is that The Almighty is a tricksy motherfucker with too much free time. Kind of like an omnipotent Johnny Knoxville.

Having brought the dinosaurs back from the dead, Attenborough decides that the most logical thing he can do is stick these monolithic miracles in a fucking zoo. It's a nice idea but- balls to it, if we're sticking anachronistic tourist attractions behind bars then we should go the whole hog and throw the Queen of England in there too. She might have German in her blood but I doubt she's quite as lethal as a raptor. She looks like she's got a strong bite, but I'll be damned if she can run as fast.

So the gang arrive at the island and are given a brief tour of the attractions before it all goes massively tits up. It seems that the worst thing you can do when running a park is hire a greedy, untrustworthy fat bastard to be in charge of the security systems and then rely on his lardy arse to stick around. In the case of Jurassic Park, a treacherous Porky-pissing-Pig decides to steal some embryos by turning off all of the electric fences and allowing the dinosaurs to escape, running wild. Within minutes a lawyer is dead, Sam Neil is escorting two children through the Cretaceous safari and Brundlefly has burrowed his way to safety under the remains of a destroyed toilet block.

For someone who saw this when it originally came out, Jurassic Park will forever hold a place in my heart. As a child, I was obsessed with dinosaurs and so this quickly became my favourite film. If I was fascinated by the terrible lizards when they were dead- seeing them eat the living fuck out of people was enough to blow my 7 year old brain. Although even as a puny young one, I knew there were several problems with the gnarly beasties depicted on screen.

According to current research which was available during the writing stages of the film, Dilophosaurus probably couldn't spit venom, Velociraptor was no-where near that tall and T-Rex's vision wasn't based on movement. Even if old Granny-Rex was engineered to have the cataracts of a blinded old dodderer, the odds are it'd be able to smell its prey when it gets up close.

It's not just the facts regarding the individual species that are slightly dubious either. For a start, I'm not sure why they're correcting the genetic gaps of the dinosaurs with frog DNA. We've already established that the closest living relative is a bird, so why not use some of that instead? Unless you wanted to make a giant army of killer fucking Kermits, I'd stay clear of anything amphibian related.

Plus it's said that they got the dino-DNA from a mosquito, however those bloodsucking bastards don't just feed off the one creature. Not only would you need to extract the bug’s prehistoric contents but you'd then need to separate everything inside of it to the individual creatures it had drank from. Although, even then the odds of them getting anything at all are pretty slim seems as they're trying to collect the samples from a male mosquito. As any anorak of insects will tell you it's only the female that can drink any blood at all... Silly scientists! I'm assuming most of them lied on their CVs to get the job- at least one of them looks like the work experience boy taking the piss.

This film is technically listed as science-fiction, however there's so little actual science present that I'm currently putting together a law suit in relation to the trades description act. There's about as much science here as there is up a Vietnamese child's sleeve when he's doing some crafty fucking card trick. Though, does anyone really give a solid shit? Even if this is all bollocks, you'd have to be some pedantic prick not to enjoy Jurassic Park simply because it makes practically no biological (and sometimes physical) sense. Even if the makers had tried to claim the creatures had been beamed into their paddocks from fucking Mars I'd have gone with it.

It's often said that Spielberg's films are like a roller-coaster, although none more so than this considering that's exactly what it is. As the ride begins we're taken from one classic scene to the next with each being more thrilling than the last. There's the raptors being fed a cow in a gimp suit, Samuel L. Jackson lending a hand and the ninja T-Rex creeping into the Museum lobby. As set pieces go, Spielberg builds them like a genius showing us the vegi-saurus to start with before having people running for their life from the Stabby-cunt-osaurus. If the first half of the movie is building the tension then the second half is just Jaws with legs and a big pair of bollocks.

Sure the acting isn't the best but Brundlefly is always good fun and it's nice to see Laura Dern in something that doesn't resemble a Lynchian fucking nightmare. The kids are annoying too but as much as gay little Tim tries, he can never outdo his irritating older sister. Despite having no personality it's obvious that by now hacker ‘Lex’ will be a nappy wearing lesbian who refuses to leave her computer until she's levelled up her class 9 Wizard. I hoped a raptor had bit her hands off -it'd probably be the best thing for her, considering.

It's obvious too that the script is hardly Casablanca. But what Casablanca has in quality dialogue, it lacks in any dinosaur related deaths. As much as I like the witty conversations of Rick Blaine, I'd much rather see a T-rex throw a Raptor through a window. Plus you can't accuse the lines here of being unmemorable. “Hold on to your butts”, “Clever Girl” and “Ah, ah, ah you didn't say the magic word” are like religious text in the land of the blockbuster.

As Spielberg movies go, this probably isn't his best. E.T has more heart, Indiana Jones has a better hero and Jaws has ultimately left me with more psychological damage. Thanks to that ocean dwelling prick I can never go back into the sea however I'm strangely not so worried about theme parks. I went to Alton Towers recently and I was more afraid of being mugged by dwarves than I was being eaten by a dinosaur. Just because their stubby little fingers can't reach your pockets doesn't mean they won't still try.

By returning to the summer blockbuster, Spielberg has created here possibly the greatest monster movie ever. Some people might argue that the original King Kong or Godzilla are better, but last time I checked neither of those had a lawyer being eaten mid-shit by a T-Rex. Two depressing decades later and the film’s effects have stood the test of time and seeing a fat man slip down a waterfall is still as exhilarating as ever. This movie is still one of my favourites and if it proves anything, it's that like communism, a theme park full of man eaters is only a good idea in theory. It's a film that justifies its own existence for the simple stupidity of it's main concept and then being so brilliant despite itself. 

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