They've Got Fun And Games

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Jumanji is an average film that people remember as being better than it was because nostalgia is a drug and we all love Robin Williams. That original movie involved playing a magical board-game in which animals spawned out of it and caused mass devastation on the real world. Although I'd argue that it still wasn't quite as destructive as the average game of Monopoly can be. We once played a game in which - I swear to God - one friend attempted to avoid going bankrupt by offering fucking blow-jobs around. Considering the popularity of the original film, it's odd that it's taken over twenty years for a sequel to come out and I have no idea why that might have been? Maybe Robin Williams was reluctant to return? Or maybe there was a sequel in 2005 called Zathura: A Space Adventure and everybody forgot it instantly? I guess we'll never know. To keep things fresh, this sequel decides to do things a little differently to the original. Rather than being about a board-game releasing a load of animals into our world, it's about a video-game that sucks people into its world. Just to write that again so you can take it in without shitting your pants.. this is a sequel that dares to do something new. Thank God it wasn't a Star Wars movie or people would be pressing rape charges against it for ruining their childhood about now.

Sharking A Lively Chum

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People say that the reason Jaws is scary is due to our fear of the unknown. When we're bobbing about on the surface of the water there could be literally anything below, and that's what terrifies us the most. I'd argue that, as true as that is, the other reason it's scary has probably got something to do with the giant fuck-off shark in it. I mean, look at those fucking things. They're basically torpedoes with teeth at one end, an arse at the other, and the black, soulless eyes of Piers Morgan. I'm told that Jaws isn't really an accurate representation of a shark's behaviour and has resulted in the poor wickle fishey's being demonised. Awe! It must be so hard being one of the most perfectly evolved predators on the planet and knowing that us tasty humans think that you're a bit of a twat. Literally the only way that they could look more like killers would be if they had a skull tattoo on their fin and just below their nose was the moustache of Danny fucking Trejo.

Why It's Good That People Might Hate This Movie

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A lot of people are going to hate Star Wars: The Last Jedi. But then a lot of people believe that it's good luck to be shat on by a bird as it flies over and so ultimately who even gives a fuck about what 'people' think? When reading about the latest Star Wars movie, it's always useful to know how a person already feels about the franchise in order to gauge the reason for their response and decide how much shite they're talking. Oh, you think Jar Jar is shit because he's for children, but the Ewoks are cute? Just give me a second to ignore almost everything that your nostalgia-cursed brain is about to crap out. Not that I'm defending Jar Jar of course. Fuck him. He literally looks like a racist person dreamed about that time a Rastafarian accidentally fucked a duck. To get you up to speed with me, I fell in love with the original films during the 1997 re-release at the perfect age of 8. When I was a kid, Han Solo was the coolest person I could think of that wasn't Roger Moore, and as a 12 year old I accidentally had my first wank whilst using my cock to pilot my imaginary X-Wing as I tried to blow up the Death Star. Who knew an explosion could be so life changing?! I was about ten years old when the prequels came out and, initially, I loved them, but as I became increasingly infected by common sense, I came to see them for the soulless husks of crap they are. Oh.. and to skip to the end.. I loved The Last Jedi with pretty much all of my cholesterol-choked heart.

How's Your Father?

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You might not think it at first glance but Lethal Weapon and Daddy's Home 2 actually make a pretty good Christmas movie double-bill. The first film begins with Mel Gibson sticking a gun in his own mouth and the second one ends with you wishing you could join him. I don't know if you saw the first Daddy's Home film but I hope you did because this sequel certainly fucking assumes that you have. Without offering any context Daddy's Home 2 shows Mark Wahlberg and Will Ferrell obsessing over each other, worrying about each other, and doing their best to make sure that their children are happy. I had to explain to my friend who was new to the franchise that the two men were step-parents to each others kids and not as this film presents them; a gay couple designed by the fucking Stepford Wives. The set up for this movie is that the two men have decided to combine their families and spend Christmas together. Except, to avoid it descending into an exact replica of the first film, they've also decided to invite both of their own fathers, John Lithgow and Mel Gibson, to join them. And then later on John Cena turns up too as somebody else's Dad for some reason. Essentially this movie is like a festive set remake of Multiplicity except instead of a load of Michael Keaton clones you get a conveyor belt of shit Dads turning up instead.

The Faulty Tower

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The Dark Tower tells the story of a teenaged boy whose parents are worried about the fact that he's constantly having strange dreams about a huge tower and a man with a big gun. No guesses as to what all that symbolises. Rather than accepting their son's obviously repressed homosexuality however they decide to send him to a psychiatrist. Or maybe it's because of his obviously repressed homosexuality that they've decided to send him there? This is America after all! I should point out that at no point does the film actually deal with the issue of homosexuality in any way, shape, or form. But if the kid came to me and explained that dream to me then I don't think I'd be blamed for giving him a pat on the back, telling him that it doesn't matter, and then hoofing him out the door for an impromptu holiday to Brighton. Anyway - so the kid's dreams come true, he travels through a magical portal into a far away world, Idris Elba protects him from monsters, and Matthew McConaughey tries to get him to scream down a tower that's protecting our planet from a demon attack. You'll notice that I didn't add “and he got the girl” in there. Hmm...

They Deserved Justice

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Despite my better judgement I was actually looking forward to Batman V Superman, and so you can imagine how silly I felt when it turned out to be a shit-spackled slab of cinematic dross. You can probably also imagine how silly I felt when, after having seen it, I again found myself getting excited for its Justice League sequel. Had I already forgotten about Jessie Eisenberg's performance as Lex Luthor which was more annoying than a wart on the gooch? Surely I could remember the 'Martha, Martha, Martha!' scene which made less sense than Donald Trump's pubic knots? Well, despite all of this, I had a small lump in my heart that Superman would no doubt claim as 'hope'. On retrospect it was probably just mounded cholesterol because, in the words of the great George W Bush, “Fool me once, shame on.. shame on you. Fool me... You can't get fooled again!” Without trying to mince my words, I am unhappy to report that Justice League is load of total wank.

Life Is Unbearable

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I remember playing in a park when I was a child, when a friend casually dropped her pants and took a shit on the ground. I don't know what game she thought we were playing but it made finding her during 'hide and seek' a hell of a lot easier. Her public dumping seemed odd at the time, except since then the rest of the world seems to have turned to shit too, and so what the hell difference does one extra turd make? At one point during Paddington 2, Julie Walters' character declares that “all actors are evil”... She only says that too because she saw an actor trying to steal something. Wait until she gets backstage with Kevin Spacey; then she'll see what they're really capable of. As I write this now, the comedian Louis C.K. has just had to issue an apology for forcing women to watch him wank off, because the entertainment industry apparently only hires rapists, perverts, or Piers fucking Morgan. Over here in Britain, we're shooting ourselves in the cock with a little project called Brexit that allowed xenophobes to pretend that they actually have a deep and complex understanding of the economy. Oh and let's not forget the game show host in the White House that's attempting to start a nuclear war over Twitter to compensate for the fact that the only thing lower than his I.Q. is his droopy old-man balls.

A Pleasant Enough Ride

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Murder On The Orient Express tells the story of a large moustache as it's forced to participate in a murder investigation by its detective owner. Hercule Poirot is everybody's favourite Belgian detective after Tintin's dog, with this film telling the story of his inability to travel from one point to another without tripping over another corpse. Even when the fucker is off duty he manages to find himself in the company of a murder victim and for some reason the police never seem to even suspect that he might be the killer. I mean, even the simple villagers only believed the boy who cried wolf a couple of times... Poirot, it seems, could literally be unloading his balls onto a corpse and the police seemingly wouldn't even question him. Anyway, the story begins here when Poirot boards a train in which a sinister chap played by Johnny Depp is murdered. Although considering that we now live in a post-Weinstein world, the story could almost have skipped the murder altogether and simply had him try to work out which of the A-List cast wasn't a sexual predator. As Poirot prowls the train he claims to be the worlds greatest detective and yet this is a case that seems to stump him. I don't mean to brag but it doesn't take the worlds greatest detective to solve the case of the dead Johnny Depp. Just check who might still be the beneficiary of his life insurance and then point the fucking train in the direction of Amber Heard's house.

Gerard Butler's Best Film Yet?!

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Geostorm begins with a sub-Sarah Connor-esque voice-over in which we're told that we should have been nicer to the planet before it began fucking us over with the weather. But who cares? I live in England. We've been getting fucked by the weather since time began! In fact the more extreme the weather gets, the happier we secretly are, with a good moan being one our favourite things to do after making a cup of tea and indulging in some casual racism. Anyway don't worry about all that global warming shite because Gerard Butler has designed a satellite-thing that floats around in space and can manipulate the weather in order to prevent any potential disasters. And let's face it.. if Gerard Butler can solve the problem then any old prick with at least a couple of opposable thumbs and a rough grasp of how to walk upright will probably be able to manage it. The problem is that things have started to go wrong with the satellite due to the sinister interference of somebody intending to fuck the weather up and wreak cheap CGI destruction on the planet. Butler has therefore been sent up to solve the mystery before things get worse, which is despite the much bigger mystery at the centre of this movie of... how the fuck does the 'actor' Gerard Butler still get work?

Waititi's Lightning In A Bottle?

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Thor movies are a bit like taking a massive fart. When done with the right amount of humour there's a good chance that you'll get away with it and everything will be okay. However, and as was the case with Thor: The Dark World, if the thing feels as though it's been forced out for the sake of it then, like a fart, there's also a definite possibility that you'll be left with something 'a little shit'. It also seems that the best films within the MCU are made by directors of note. Shane Black's Iron Man 3 was his typical Christmas-set story of a wise-talking crime fighter that gets wrapped up in a Hollywood conspiracy. Joss Whedon's Avengers was his usual group of weirdos coming together to form a surrogate family with each other as they battle supernatural-esque forces. With Thor: Ragnarok we see the comedy genius of indie director Taika Waititi as he makes what he drunkenly described in an interview as being “about a guy just trying to get home because there's a burglar in his house, and he's stuck with this giant bi-polar guy who gets angry all the time, and a drunk chick, and an annoying brother, and that's it. But with spaceships... and Jeff Goldblum”.

Kick My Brains Around The Floor

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Atomic Blonde's stench is so thick with the intoxicating funk of the 1980's that it feels like you've fallen asleep on a post-rave David Hasselhoff and then suffocated to death on the fumes of his hair spray. From one half of the directing duo behind the unquestionably brilliant John Wick, you might assume that this film will equally be a Charlize Theron-shaped kick to the bollocks. And you'd be right. However Atomic Blonde is also a German-set espionage adventure that takes place as the Berlin wall looks as likely to fall as a piss-head on a pogo-stick before he slurs the condemning phrase of, “wanna see something cool?” As such the story here isn't quite as streamlined as John Wick's “get the fuck away from my dog” simplicity with this sister film including a hint of John le Carré to go with its kick-ass John Woo-iness. Theron plays Broughton, an MI6 agent tasked with retrieving a stolen list containing the names of every single undercover agent that's currently on active duty. Or as the script, in our post-Mission: Impossible, Post-Skyfall world should probably have said, “insert cliched MacGuffin here”.

Is The Blade Runner Sequel A Benefit Or A Hazard?

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Like the sky being blue, two and two equalling four, and Piers Morgan being a rancid cock of a man, there are some things in life that simply can not be argued with. The status of Ridley Scott's Blade Runner as a masterpiece is also one of these things. Few works of art have gone on to influence so much in their wake, with Blade Runner being directly responsible for everything from the design of almost every sci-fi film since its release to the simple fact that even my fucking phone is now 'more human than human'. When asked if he was nervous about entering Ridley Scott's world with his sequel Blade Runner 2049, director Denis Villeneuve responded, “of course. I had to find a way of not being like a vandal in a church”. Well, it turns out that the talented prick need not have worried because in the way that his film focuses on the mystery of a miracle, it seems that he has delivered one of his own. Not only is he not a vandal at the church but he's taken a sledge hammer to its back wall and discovered a secret cathedral hidden behind. If Blade Runner is sci-fi's holy grail then in the way that this sequel maintains its core themes and mysteries whilst also expanding on them and exploring its own agendas, Blade Runner 2049 is the holy grail but with added bells and tits on it.

The Times They Aren't A-Changin'

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Kathryn Bigelow's latest film Detroit deals with the race riots of the 1960's, with particular focus on the horrors of one particular night. Whilst staying in a cheap and shitty hotel, several innocent black characters and two white girls find themselves lined up against a wall by the police who then proceed to beat, humiliate, and occasionally murder them. Suddenly I don't feel I can moan about how crap my night in a Travelodge was, even though there was a bit of shit on the shower curtain and some snot on the pillow. Some people might wonder why Bigelow chose to make this film now. After all, slavery was abolished over 140 years ago and, bar a few minor blips like this film depicts in the 60's and 70's, I think more or less everything has been plain sailing for black people since then. I mean, sure, they're still getting shot by the police in America for having done literally fuck all, and the leader of the free world does seem to be a racist fuck-wit that's supported by a group of small-dicked Nazi's that he refuses to condemn. But you know, “there's blame on both sides”; black people for understandably desiring equal rights and opportunities, and racists for having the IQ of a dying skunk's stagnant faecal matter.

The Golden Circle Of Life

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A little while ago I heard an interview in which director Matthew Vaughn said that he'd dreamt up a scenario for Mark Strong's character in his Kingsman sequel that was so batshit and insane that he'd have to ask the actor's permission before committing to the idea. Considering quite how insane the first movie got in which Pride And Prejudice's dashing Mr Darcy fucked up a church full of arse-holes to the sound of both 'Freebird' and a lisping Samuel L Jackson, this seemed like quite a statement for Vaughn to make. Having now seen Kingsman: The Golden Circle I feel I can confirm too that his idea was literally off the charts in its insanity. So off the charts in fact that I actually have no idea as to what it might have been because presumably Mark Strong told him “Err.. no”. From start to finish I spotted literally nothing in this movie that Mark Strong's character did in which you'd assume the director would need permission before writing it into the script. Especially when you consider that Strong only recently appeared in the shite film Grimsby in which his character had to hide up one elephant's vagina as another elephant stuck its cock in, started the special cuddle that people in love do, and then finally jizzed all over him.

Home Is Where The Heart Is

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There's a knock at the door, Javier Bardem's man of the house opens it to reveal a stranger and for some reason his wife, Jennifer Lawrence, doesn't divorce him straight away. If somebody I know knocks on my door then I dive behind the sofa as though a fucking shot has just been fired through the window. If it's a stranger knocking then not only am I not going to answer but I'm one fucking step away from setting the dogs on them. Luckily for them that one step is actually owning some attack dogs, but even if I'm not having these wannabe-guests ripped apart, then I'm still certainly not going to invite them in. Alas this is exactly what Bardem does when Ed Harris's stranger comes a-knocking and despite the fact that they don't know each other from fucking Adam, it's decided that the guest can stay the night. Not that Lawrence is especially happy about this because not only is Ed Harris a stranger but he's also Ed fucking Harris. Nothing good ever happens in movies when Ed Harris shows up. Hey, do you remember that movie where Ed Harris turns up and they all live happily ever after? No! Because it never fucking happens!

King Of Clowns

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It tells the story of a creature that is tormenting the children of a town called Derry by taking the form of their biggest fears. Imagine a 1970's BBC presenter but that lives in the sewers and has slightly less embarrassing hair and you're basically there. A few years ago I got a little too stoned, downed a boiling-hot mug of hot chocolate, tried to tug myself off, felt ill because of the drink, accidentally fell asleep, and then woke up six hours later with chocolate caked around my mouth and my cock still in my hand. If I'd seen this shapeshifting monster as a child then I'm pretty sure that it'd have known my biggest fear and simply transformed into how I am now. Based on the 1986 novel by Stephen King, this film will forever join John Carpenter's The Thing on a list of titles that will sound like you're providing zero information to non-film fans that have just asked “What did you watch last night?” Or at least it would if it didn't seem like this film was already more popular than sliced bread, the Minions, and the concept of sending 'dick-pics'. When the first trailer for It went online it broke all records for the amount of views that it had, and, if how full the screening that I was in is anything to go by, the film will likely do very well at the box office. Although if the screening I was in is anything to go by then I'd like to ask the marketers to in future stop making their films seem so appealing to stupid fucking cock-munchers that can't sit the fuck still or shut the fuck up for a couple of hours.

I Felt Two Emotions... Silence And Rage

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Watching The Hitman's Bodyguard was like watching a remake of Midnight Run but if it was from the writer of Mr Bean's fucking Holiday. Beat for beat this film followed the DeNiro/Grodin classic but if all the jokes and charm of the original had been replaced by somebody that had only heard of the concept of 'wit' after having had a child explain it to them through the expressive art of dance. Ryan Reynolds is a bodyguard; Samuel L Jackson a hitman. The former must escort the latter from prison to court as the two avoid ambushes from other interested parties and bicker their way from A to B. Hilarity ensues.. is presumably what the writer wrote into the script with every intention of eventually going back and adding that hilarity.. before something got in the way and prevented them. I'm assuming death. Or at the very least I hope it was death because if they see the film that's finally hit the screen then they will likely end up dying of fucking shame regardless.

She's Such A Doll

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At the beginning of Annabelle: Creation we see a doll maker at work in his house as he sets about making his creepy fucking toys. Although I'll tell you what.. he lives in quite a big house. I mean, how much is he charging for these fucking dolls and who the fuck is buying them? They're genuinely horrible. Maybe parents might buy them as presents for their children as a way of letting their children know how much they secretly hate them, but still. I can only therefore presume that this doll-making business is a front and that he's actually stuffing their heads with drugs. Within the prologue of the film, we see his family is involved in a car accident in which somebody is run over and killed. Throughout the rest of the film, the whole thing is referred to as a 'car accident' too, however, I'm pretty sure that it must have been an intentional hit from a rival drugs gang. Anyway.. for some reason, this means one of his dolls is now haunted by a demon, or something. As a result, they lock it in a cupboard that has pages from the Bible stapled all over it. This might seem like the legitimate solution to the doll problem. However they kind of look like the sort of people that would attempt to solve most of their problems by locking them in the Bible page room too.

Some Hazey Cosmic Jive

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Near the end of Valerian And The City Of A Thousand Planets, the two lead characters find out that they're going to be stuck in a shuttle with each other for two hours and with nothing to do. “Great” one of them says to the other, “Two hours with you is going to feel like an eternity”. “Imagine how I felt”, a friend said to me after the film, “I had to spend two and a quarter fucking hours with them”. To be fair the film hasn't exactly received the warmest of welcomes with critics accusing it of essentially being cinematic candy-floss, colourful to look at but ultimately lacking in any substance whatsoever. They're not wrong either. Sci-fi movies have the potential to hold a mirror up to our own society and reveal profound truths about our existence and way of life. In this film we see Cara Delevingne stick her head up a jelly-fishes arse hole in order to see the future and, in honesty, I fucking loved it. Not just the head to anus scene but every rainbow coloured piece of bullshit that the film spewed my way. If gay pride was a person then this is the film that it would vomit out at the end of a really enjoyable but ultimately forgettable night out.

Stuck And Running From The Bullets

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Christopher Nolan's Dunkirk begins with a soldier frantically trying to find a spot on the beach in which he can take a dump. Or maybe, he was just ticking off things he could do from his bucket list and having a literal shit on France was one of them. And who even knew this movie would be set in France at all? You'd think there would be a clue in the title but a few years ago a friend of mine let slip that he thought Dunkirk was actually a place in Scotland. After initially making fun of him for this lapse in his general knowledge, it quickly became annoyingly apparent that Dunkirk may actually be the most Scottish sounding word I've ever heard in my entire fucking life. When the English soldiers were stuck and desperate on the beach at the start of this film I genuinely had to keep reminding myself that it wasn't going to end with Mel Gibson riding over the hill, face painted blue and screaming for fucking 'Freedom!!!”

Woody Kill Those Damn Dirty Apes?

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At the beginning of War For The Planet Of The Apes, the ape leader Caesar suffers a devastating blow which sparks him off on a mission of revenge, putting his very soul at risk. At a pivotal moment in this movie, some dumb motherfucking bitch that was sat near to me got her stupid twatting phone out, lighting the cinema up and distracting me from an otherwise emotional scene. My soul has already been well and truly lost and so I wish nothing but the most carnivorous of parasites to latch itself onto that simplistic bint's brain and to chew its way through to her fucking spinal cord. Caesar, however, is more thoughtful than me. The focus of his revenge is the leader of a cult-like band of military fuck-wits that are being led by the Kurtz-a-like Woody Harrelson, who looks like how a fat Marlon Brando might have done had he posed in front of a complimentary circus mirror. Along for the ride are a couple of Caesar's ape-friends who act as his confidants and voices-of-reason. My friends, however, are as bad as me... so fuck that ignorant fucking pig and her stupid fucking phone. I hope she was getting bad news at the fucking time.

Boning Up: Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes

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What's the story?

In the previous film it seems that not only did we humans create a race of super-chimps, but the very virus that made them smarter also made us pretty fucking dead. Having sneezed our way into an early grave, what's left of humanity is surviving under the leadership of Gary Oldman. Meanwhile Caesar and his band of merry monkeys are living in peace in the forest until a chance encounter with the humans leads to gun-fire and tension between the two species. Also for the sake of variety, one of Caesar's closest friends is a crazy, human-hating fuck-nugget named Koba. Bearing in mind that the franchise is called Planet Of The Apes and not Planet Of The Humans And Apes Who Love Each Other Dearly... I'm sure you can figure out that it's all going to kick off.