What A Massive Cult

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When it comes to the dating game, I think it's always best to go for somebody that's good looking. You can fake a nice personality but, conveniently, looks are only ever skin deep. The hottie will stab you in the heart too, but after however many years it takes to get over them.. at least you'll always have the wank fodder to remember them by. Hereditary director Ari Aster's latest film Midsommar might seem like it's going to be a complete rip-off of The Wicker Man which might be because in many ways that's exactly what the fuck it is. In fact, the only thing that it didn't have was Christopher Lee dressed up like a mad aunty at a party as she dances about in an attempt to hide the menopause. However, if there's one thing that does separate this from that 1973 cult classic it's that its director is calling it a break-up movie. Of course, it still has horror elements to it because what break-up isn't completely fucking horrific? I tried to break-up with somebody once and the night genuinely ended up with us in hospital after she'd cracked her head on the corner of a table after forcing herself pass out. That was also the night that I decided that personalities can't be trusted and to only go for hotties. I've been single since. If The Wicker Man is to go by though it seems that the average cultist is even more hardcore and jaded than I am. We both prefer people to be hot but in their case, it's because they've locked them inside a big wooden structure and set them the fuck on fire.

 
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Boners, Stepdads, and Fake News

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Oh it's hard when you're a teenager, isn't it?! Your dick, I mean. Not so much these days but back then there was no bigger thorn in my side than the boner in my pants. Just fucking constant. In fact, I honestly don't know how people haven't figured out that Spider-Man is a teenage boy based on how tight is costume is and how often he must get those occasionally random boners. He could be hanging upside down on a lamppost just minding his own business and suddenly.. oop random boner time. I mean he'd have definitely got one in the last movie when Vulture was trying to choke him to death wouldn't he? And if you ask me, it shows a complete lack of initiative on his part too that he didn't just whip it out and start thrashing away. Best case scenario is that your enemy gets so freaked out that they let you go, worst case is that you simply go out with a smile. In Spider-Man: Far From Home, Peter decides to follow his dick to Europe where he intends to woo MJ, his school crush. In fact, it's a school trip that he's going on and so you can imagine that his biggest enemy will be whichever teacher has given up their free time to take the children away. Here's a clue - it's probably a pedo one. But the reality is that there's a bunch of crazy shit going down with some elemental giant things that he has to sort out. Of course, he has to do this without giving his secret identity away which is going to be even more difficult when he's got his entire class keeping tabs on him and MJ constantly reminding him that it's boner time.

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So Danny And I Made A Film Together

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When Danny Boyle and I were making his latest film Yesterday, I mentioned to him that he was my favourite director of all time. Huh, what? Oh, I hadn't told you that Danny and I made this film together? Oh right, okay, err in which case I spent a day on set with the D-Meister as he directed me in his latest film. That's pretty cool, right? What a brag. Not only has Danny Boyle also directed Leonardo DiCaprio, Michael Fassbender, and Ewan McGregor but now he can tell people that he's also worked with me. Admittedly I was an extra and his direction was, "instead of standing right here by me, why don't you go and stand over there instead", but it counts. Anyway, so when I was chatting to him at his hotel afterwards after I'd waited four hours for him to leave the set, chased him to his car, and forced a taxi-driver at gunpoint to follow where he went, I told him that he was my favourite director of all time. He said "thanks", as though he hears it all the time and as though I was only saying it to kiss his arse because he was right there. But in my case, he really is my favourite director. Trainspotting is my all-time favourite film, I swear that 28 Days Later reinvented the horror genre, and I will fight to the fucking death with anybody that is dismissive of The Beach. But the bit in that film in which DiCaprio hallucinates that he's in a computer game is a bit shit? What the fuck did you just say? Right, you, me, tooled up, by the bins, right fucking now!

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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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One Of A Hundred Memories That I Don't Want

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In this latest instalment of the Men In Black series, we see that Liam Neeson is the head of the secret organisation's London division. After that interview which he gave a little while back though, I'm guessing that he calls his particular branch the “Men In Black Bastards”. Not that anybody seems to remember that any more. Either the internet really is a fucking fickle place when it comes to its outrage-and-cancel culture or those neuralizer's really do work! Meanwhile, Tessa Thompson joins the American branch as a new recruit after having been obsessed with the idea of alien life visiting the planet since she was a child. Because aliens are to most children what Morrissey is to lonely twenty-somethings; they're a phase we all go through before realising that they're ridiculous and we have to move on with our lives. Her boss, Emma Thompson, however, sends her over to Neeson's division in England because she thinks that, “something is up with London”. I mean.. that's a fucking understatement isn't it? Boris fucking Johnson is about to become Prime Minister and so I imagine that within the year most Londoner's will be living on a diet of cockroaches and wanking into their fallout shelter to stay sane. Right now though there's some extra-terrestrial shit that needs sorting out and so rookie agent Thompson is partnered up with fellow agent Chris Hemsworth as the two set about trying to solve it.

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A Boiled Toad Of A Movie

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The X-Men series used to work as a metaphor for those that felt as though they were considered a minority within our society. Black people could relate to the idea of being unjustly treated as a second class citizen and gay people could relate to the idea that if they didn't want to wear spandex then leather was considered their only other option. As the series has progressed though, it seems that there's now an even smaller minority of people that might be drawn to it and that's the four people left on planet Earth that actually still give a shit about these films. I know that coming out to your family must be a difficult thing but after I told my Mum that I didn't hate X-Men: Apocalypse, it wouldn't have been unfair for her to ask, “Have you tried not being a stupid twat?” But out and proud I am when it comes to my love of the X-Men movies. Sure there might have been a few bad ones like Apocalypse, Last Stand, X-Men Origins: Wolverine, and The New Mutants. But let's not forget that this is the franchise that really started the comic book movie boom in 2000 and even more recently, the Deadpool series and Logan have been fucking great. Oh and in case you've not heard of The New Mutants then it's an X-Men film from a few years back that's so terrible that the studio still hasn't released it. If movies were children then The New Mutants is the one that you keep locked up in the attic and feed on a diet of fucking fish heads.

So We Should Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb?

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After seeing a few trailers, and being a fan of the director's previous work, I remember going fucking nuts for the new Godzilla film in 2014. If I was to compare being a movie fan to being on drugs then it was like being one of those nutters on bath-salts as I manically gobbled up every new trailer like it was the face of an innocent fucking tramp. On its release I therefore remember my initial impression of the film being that it was a little bit like the first time that I'd ever managed to get off with someone. Not because it was a mess and over far sooner than I'd expected but rather because despite having enjoyed the experience, I had probably gone in with my expectations a little too high. My life hadn't been changed the way I'd been led to believe that it would have been, but there are worse ways to kill time. I imagine I also made that comparison as a way of subtly reminding people that I have had my end away in the past and should like to be considered for any events of that nature in the future. Please. Watching Godzilla is still like having sex for me, but mostly because it's rare that I manage to get it on and even when I do, it probably means that I'm bored and having a quiet night to myself. However, nothing could quite have prepared me for sequel 'Godzilla: King Of The Monsters', which I saw the other day. If I were to compare this new film to getting laid too then it was like being invited to an orgy in which the most attractive people on the planet are said to be attending. Except when you get there it's just a creepy scout leader tugging himself off as an old lady projectile shits into his face. I didn't like it and it fucking stunk.

A New Fantastic Point Of View?

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Aladdin might be a cautionary tale of what happens when you wish for selfish things, but that doesn't mean that we don't then all spend the film wondering what we'd do if we found a genie. I'm quite happy with the size of my dick so I wouldn't wish for a bigger one. But I'd still like it to be more impressive so I think that my first wish would be for every other man on the planet's dick to be shrunk by a couple of inches. Kind of like how Goldfinger planned to irradiate the world's supply of gold with the exception of his own in an attempt to make his more valuable. Like that but with dicks. I'd obviously want more wishes after that but one of the rules is that you can't wish for any more than the three you're given. So I think that for my second wish I'd simply ask for the power of a genie myself. Just the power mind you. I wouldn't want to actually become a genie because my third wish would be for an Order 66 of the genies. A large-scale mass execution of magical beings in order to ensure that nobody was ever capable of challenging me or preventing me from exercising my own fucking will. Not that I'd do much after that I suppose. I'd probably just make chocolate healthy, create a second season of Joss Whedon's Firefly, and then Thanos snap about ninety-five per cent of our shit species away because most people are dickheads and I fucking hate them. I'd also wish for less of these pointless fucking live-action Disney remakes because at this point they are really starting to do my tits in now. 

The Greatest Thing That Our Species Has Ever Created

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Cinema can probably stop now because John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum is the greatest fucking achievement that our shit show of a species has ever fucking accomplished. You can take your Great Pyramids, and your penicillin, and your pointless fucking trips to the moon, and shove them up your arse because the perfection of John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum, flat out shits all over them. Oh, did we figure out a way of splitting open an atom? Who gives a fuck?! John Wick: Chapter 3 - Parabellum features a scene in which dogs in bulletproof fucking jackets kill about fifty people in five fucking minutes. Yeah, did you hear that? Dogs in bulletproof fucking jackets kill fifty people in five fucking minutes. I mean, what?? Did Einstein write the script for this movie? Was it Stephen Hawking? Is that what he was doing before he died? Just blinking this movie out in morse code as his last act of genius? Because unless aliens came down and beamed this film into our heads then clearly John Wick: Chapter 3- Parabellum is the greatest fucking advance that our society has made since we first crawled out of the swamp as a fucking fish.

Murder, Bestiality, Tinder, And Pokemon

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When I was about ten years old we had my cousin around to stay and in the four seconds that I took my eyes off him, he managed to delete all thirty fucking hours of the progress that I'd put into my Pokemon Yellow on the Gameboy Colour. I'd like to say that I took this gracefully as it had obviously been an accident on his part, but the reality is that I dropped down to my knees and screamed the word “no” as loud as I could like a dickhead. I wasn't wearing a vest at the time but if I had been I suspect that I'd have probably ripped it off to add to the fucking drama. Not only had he deleted where I was up to in my game but he'd essentially also murdered the Pikachu that I'd formed a bond within it. Yeah, that's right, I said 'murdered'. Anyway, that would all have been about twenty years ago now and although I'm obviously over it if he, Andrew, happens to be reading this and still wants to make it up to me then I suppose the only fair way of doing that would be to make things even right? So that would be oh I don't know, thirty hours of my chores that he could do in order for me to get back the time that was stolen and then maybe he could stand by and watch as I kick his favourite fucking pet to death, yeah? Maybe I'd feel better about it then, Andrew.

Does Liking This Film Make Me A Bad Person?

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People think that Mel Gibson directed the two-hour torture-fuckery that was The Passion Of The Christ because of his religious beliefs and desire to tell that aspect of our saviour's life. But did anybody consider that he really just wanted to direct a film in which a Jewish guy gets the shit kicked out of him for two hours? Not even any old Jewish guy but the king of the Jewish guys! It's certainly possible, isn't it? Because if there's one thing that we all know about Mel Gibson it's that he hates the jews. Oh and don't get him started on black people or what the collective term for them might be. If the domestic abuse allegations are anything to go by, I think it's fair to say that he's not too fond of women either. Who can also forget his views on gay people from an early 90's interview in which he simply pointed at his own arse-hole and stated that “this is only for taking a shit”? Presumably, he then went on to point at his own mouth and claim, “and this is for talking shit”. If all of that wasn't bad enough, it's also worth remembering that he was one of the people involved in Daddy's Home 2 which was a fucking hate crime against all of humanity in one fell swoop.

The Avengers Abide

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When a film like Avengers: Endgame comes out, it starts to feel like we're living in some sort of fascist state in which even the slightest whisper of a spoiler is punishable by death. In general, I'd say that I'm against any form of fascism to the point that I get pissed off when even the self-scan in the supermarket tells me to remove my shopping from the bagging area. I mean what the fuck does it think it's doing, telling me what to do. We don't live in the fucking Matrix yet you robot-prick! However, in this case, my only regret is that spoiling things literally isn't punishable by death as I would quite happily cave any perpetrators head in with a fucking rock and then shit into their skull as a warning to everybody else. So I won't spoil anything major here if you haven't seen it. I'll probably talk about the bit in the movie in which Tony and Steve die of AIDS and why I felt it was right to graphically show how they got it. But I don't think that counts as a spoiler because we all saw it coming right? We certainly saw them coming in that scene anyway. So I guess I will be talking a little bit about what happens and so if you haven't seen it then you know.. piss off.

A Big Foot With A Big Sole

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I can't say I'm a huge believer in conspiracy theories, whether they are the existence of Nessie, Jesus, or Mickey Rourke, but there's always been something interesting about Big Foot to me. With his huge sloping forehead, hunched back, massive saggy tits, and almost humanoid squint, my friend Graham could be mistaken for our missing link. In fact, during my speech as his best man at his wedding, I went into further detail; “when Graham was in school he would quite literally get told off by the teachers for drinking rainwater from the puddles on the floor. And I think that we could have probably guessed that from looking at him. I don't mean to suggest that Graham is strange looking, and he looks very smart today, but Jesus. He's got a head that is the exact shape of a monkey nut, weird slitty nostrils like a snake, he doesn't have any lips, and his tiny little ears haven't grown since birth.” Despite all evidence to the contrary, however, my bizarre friend is, in fact, a human and therefore essentially fucking useless to me. Especially when considering, and as I went on to say in my speech, that “If this was Victorian England then I could wheel him around in a circus and make money from simply showing him off to people.” So, of course, I don't definitely believe in the existence of Big Foot but with friends like Graham I obviously can't entirely rule it out. 

Darkness Prevails

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The new Hellboy is incredible value for money because it's only two hours long but it felt like it was on for a fucking month. The original two instalments of this series were helmed by the visionary director Guillermo Del Toro who created a fairytale world that was somehow epic in scale and yet still managed to focus on the complexities of its characters. I'm not even sure that this new film had any fucking characters now that I think about it.. Of course, it'd be difficult for any film to follow in the footsteps of one of Del Toro's with this being especially true of the Hellboy franchise. The second of his two movies was quite clearly designed to be the middle part of a trilogy and so like an unwanked dick in a massage parlour, we were all hoping that he'd return to finish it off. I understand that the studio couldn't justify the budget that he required for his final film when looking at how much he required and the box office results of those first two movies... but this new version is such a step down from what's come before that it's taking the absolute piss. It's like wanting to go to an art exhibition but because you can't afford a trip to the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa you simply settle to go down an ally to look at a page of Readers Wives that some tramp has stuck to the wall with a piece of his actual shit.  

Tim Burton Gives Us His Big D

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When I was in school one of my fellow students asked our teacher if they'd heard of the white-eared elephant. In confusion, the teacher asked, “what's the white-eared elephant?” to which the student pulled the pockets of his trousers out and said, “well here's his white ears” and then whilst pointing at his cock announced, “and here's his trunk”. I know that sounds weird but I went to an all boys school and when too many males are in the same room their dicks essentially become a comedy prop. The original Dumbo though was made when Disney was at one of the company's lowest points and so, like a crack-head in a shop doorway, they were just after a cheap hit to keep them going. With its short running time, huge heart, and cute characters, I'm sure that Dumbo would have seemed exactly what they were after too. The original animated Dumbo is like your favourite old person in that it's warm-hearted and sweet for about an hour before getting a little bit fucking racist for the final ten minutes. Plus it's got a flying elephant which is such a great idea. If a circus owner asked you if you wanted to go for a particularly magical ride on his long-eared elephant would you really turn him down? Obviously you fucking wouldn't. Just make sure that you ask what colour those long ears are first.

Bring On The Demons

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There was a guy sitting pretty close to me when I went to see Ouija: Origin Of Evil who had clearly misjudged the movie. You know the old trick of taking a girl on a date to a horror film in the hope that she'll cack her pants and grab hold of your wanger or something out of panic? Well, I'm pretty sure that had been his plan because he was there with a girl and you could kind of tell they hadn't been going out for very long. He was that horrible combination of awkward and yet grabby as though still a little nervous to be around her but also confident enough to restrain her in case of any escape attempts. Well, the film began and I'm not sure that things went entirely his way. Not only did she spend the entire movie sat fairly calmly but on the off chance that there was even the smallest hint of a scare, he'd quite obviously shit himself and jump out of his fucking seat. As a terminally single geek, I'm happy to admit that I'm not a reliable expert in the field of dating however I'm also pretty sure that the old 'take a girl to a horror movie' thing only works if you're brave enough to impress them and don't spend the movie squirming about and murmuring as though your fucking love eggs are kicking in.

We Need To Talk About Us

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Usually when you leave the cinema and the person you're with says that they want to talk “about us” it means that you shouldn't have hidden your dick at the bottom of the popcorn box. With Jordan Peele's latest movie Us though, the very fact that most people will be leaving the cinema and saying “we need to talk about Us”, is pretty much what makes it so brilliant. Us is a Rorschach test of a movie in that it gives enough for you to know that there's a subtext but not so much that the subtext is branded onto your bollocks and obvious for everyone to see. It's the kind of movie that'll live on because everybody will have their own theory as to what it's actually about with 'duality' being the only thing that I suspect that we'll all agree on. The film seems obsessed with the idea that one single thing can hold two opposing meanings or ideals with the broader message being that we can be our own worst enemies. So when you're leaving the cinema and the person you're with says, “we need to talk about us”, there's always the chance that they mean, “I'd like to talk about the themes of the film we've just seen”, whist at the same time also meaning, “plus you're dumped for putting your dick in the popcorn box”.

Spring Is The Bush Porn That It's Okay To Love

Have you ever heard of bush porn? Because as far as I'm concerned directors Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead's film Spring is essentially the movie equivalent of bush porn. I have no clue why this was the case but before the internet was a thing it was quite common to find discarded porno mags within random bushes in the park. Well, like that bush porn from my early teenage years, I have no idea how I discovered the film Spring but I am 100% glad that I ended up coming across it. Interestingly enough I wasn't entirely sure how to describe this movie because I don't want to give away some of its surprises but Wikipedia has it listed as being a romantic body horror. If you can think of a more fitting term to describe some of the fucking grot that I saw when discovering some bush porn than 'romantic body horror' then I'll be impressed. For me, Spring is kind of like Call Me By Your Name in that it's about two people falling in love in a foreign country except that Spring has a surprise that's even grosser than that movie's 'eating the jizzy peach' scene.

Seeing Captain Marvel As A Whole

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With the release of Captain Marvel, it seems that Hollywood has come a long way. I'm just looking at the IMDb trivia for that film in particular and it claims that due to lead actress Brie Larson's allergy to cats that all of her scenes with the feline of the movie were filmed with either a puppet or a computer-generated VFX. In 1939's The Wizard Of Oz the actor playing the Tin Man had a reaction to his make-up which left him in the hospital and at death's door. Could they have changed the make-up for him to return to the role? Probably. But when somebody starts acting like a fucking diva and demanding that you don't kill them then why the fuck should you bother? Plus if he's moaning now then you can only imagine how much of a pain he'd be in a later scene when finding out that the prop snow being thrown in his face is actually asbestos. None of that is a lie either by the way and so you know that if they'd made Captain Marvel back in the day that they'd have just smeared that fucking cat all over Brie Larson's face until she either developed an immunity to it or dropped the fuck dead. Not that they'd have even made this movie back in the day, because, who the fuck wants to see an action movie with a woman in the lead role?

Snow Country For Old Men

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I know that they say that there's no such thing as bad publicity, but I reckon that telling a journalist that you once wanted to cosh an innocent “black bastard” to death is probably taking a risk. Cold Pursuit is the movie in which Liam Neeson was allowed to open his mouth, and like a cat shitting glitter we all just stood around and screamed, “what the fuck is coming out of him?!” Many argued that Neeson was a racist and should be 'cancelled' as though he's a fucking subscription channel, whereas others figured that, 'meh, no harm, no foul'. Personally, I take the not-so-nuanced view that wanting to batter a black man to death is probably a little bit racist in the way that jabbing a screwdriver into your eyes might be a little bit fucking dangerous. However, that's not to say that I think that Neeson himself is a racist. Based on the shame that he claimed to feel, and the way in which he volunteered the story out of nowhere, I think that Neeson has evolved to the point that he understands how abhorrent his actions were. I also think that society would be better off learning from a person's mistakes instead of shutting them down for admitting them. What made a person think that was the right way to act and what changed their mind? Isn't that a more interesting discussion than simply whether or not Neeson still deserves a career? I mean, have you fucking seen Taken? He was pushing it with that shitty fucking franchise alone.

The Treasure Of Broken Britain

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When I was a kid, there was a time I was at the local swimming pool when I spotted a single pound coin below the water. Excited, I swam down to claim my treasure only to find that the second I grabbed it the bastard somehow dissolved through my fingers. Rather than money, it seems that it was actually a tiny little turd that somebody had shat out of their swimming shorts that I'd picked up. In The Kid Who Would Be King our distinctly English hero also finds some treasure on a building site except in his case it's very much the real thing. The young boy Alex sees the sword Excalibur lodged in a block of cement and as it turns out, it's only him that can actually pull it out. If I'd have been him and knowing my luck, I'd have tried to pull it out to find that it was actually a stick that somebody had been flicking dog-shit with. In his case, he becomes Earth's saviour and must protect our broken country from the onset of demons and dragons which is a bit of an adventure for him. In my scenario, I imagine that I would have just rubbed my eyes and probably ended up fucking blind or something.

Love Is What Brought You Here

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I live in a predominately white area where I have to remind myself not to stare at a black person if I see one in the street because it's just such an uncommon sight. In fact, the area is so white that if my friends and I were to find ourselves in a horror movie then I'd almost certainly be the first to die simply because I have the most basic hint of a tan about me. However, whenever I've been to the cinema to see a film about any kind of minority then in every single case that minority has been in the audience too. This was the case with Crazy Rich Asians, Black Panther and most recently If Beale Street Could Talk in which there was a single black lady sat in the seat that I'd actually booked for myself. Every time I see this happen I'm reminded of why representation really does matter and how refreshing and needed it must be for those individuals. Still.. I did say that in this case that the lady was sat in the seat that I'd booked for myself. I know it was her fuck up but considering the film we were seeing, I have to admit that I did feel proper shitty having to tell her to go back to wherever her cinema ticket says she belongs.