Plot Summary
Woody Harrelson gets his dog nicked, Sam Rockwell, Colin Farrell and Christopher Walken take hallucinogens in the desert, and a lot of people get killed.
First off, I've said it a million times before, good looking A-list Hollywood actors should not play alcoholics. Colin Farrell, although reportedly may be something of a boozer hound, does not look like an alcoholic. Alcoholics have bad skin, horrible physiques, and don't look like they model for Mens Health.
This film descends quickly into a horrible place. The screenwriter got lazy and forgot to write a film, instead just through up the brainstorm he had for an idea of a film. You know how annoying Robbie Williams is when he shits out lyrics like 'And that's a good line, to take it to the bridge'. (Can't think what that song is, which is a good thing).
Or that Spandeau Ballet song where the dude sings 'Why do I find it hard to write the next line?'
(Think that song is called 'True'. I remember this because Sean Hughes once joked, 'yeah I know why you're finding it hard, because you know it's going to be shit.)
Anyway it's lazy writing and I don't like it. Had I known this was going to be the premise for the film I would have watched a Roger Moore film on the iPlayer.
Oh and Walken, stop doing comedies. That's it.
Tomato Meter - 82% critics
Tomato Meter - 73% audience
Peter Meter - 51%
Moving on. Just got back from watching Oblivion at the cineworld.
Plot Summary
Tom Cruise is dating a ginger girl in an Ikea-esque 5-star sky-rise and then upgrades to a Bond girl in a shed by a pond.
So this morning I chopped up 339 cricket bats to pay for some Nike Kicks.
A work colleague was working in the other shed and I could smell him from 20 feet away. Again, I have said this before, I don't blame the men, I blame the wives. This guy smells all day every day, has nothing to do with chopping wood. Women, tell your men they stink. Tell them they need to shower before leaving that house that by the way, must stink like a sumo's jockstrap.
Get them a bar of soap for christmas or better than that, refuse them sex. They'll soon get the message. Why should we suffer along with you?
Anyway, I got in my crappy Audi, and was driving out the yard when I noticed he had a T-shirt that had 'Oblivion' written across it. So I roll down the window.
"Where did you get that T-shirt?"
"Alton Towers. I went on the ride, got the T-shirt." He said.
"Cool, look this sounds crazy but I'm going to see Oblivion at the cinema, can I borrow that..."
I immediately cut myself off from finishing the sentence as my car began to fill with his musk. What a terrible idea that would have been.
"Never mind" I said and sped off, shooting the gravel at his shins leaving a dust cloud in my wake but not as shitty as the one he had left in my car.
Oblivion is what Moon would have been if someone chucked 70 million rupees at the budget. I'll let you decide if that's a good or a bad thing.
Tomato meter - 66% critics
Tomato Meter - 71% audience
Peter Meter - 79%
Quick Plug
If you pick up my the Braintree and Witham times this week you'll find my review of the Missing Andy gig in the back pages. My original draft had the correct spelling of the word Guerrilla, for the record.
Verdict
Last Thursday I had a shitty day chopping shitty wood for ten hours and I think part of my soul had worn to the nub. On leaving the yard in my crappy Audi, a female mallard stopped at the side of the road, I stopped and let it pass. As she gave me the nod and started waddling across, 5 baby chicks no bigger than tennis balls, shot out from under the fence in hot pursuit. Now if I had a phone that could take pictures I would have spent that beautiful serene moment, fishing around in my bag or jacket pocket, unlocking the phone, switching to camera mode blah blah and I would have missed natures perfection all for a blurry camera pic to post on some social media that no one will give two craps over. But I didn't. I watched and I ingested the wonder of natures splendor. The moment lasted no longer than 10 seconds before the mother duck and her chicks disappeared under a hedgerow on the opposite side.
So people instead of going to gigs and filming the band on your phone and playing the crappy distorted footage to your buddies at work the next day just to prove you were there, try savouring the moment, let it become a part of you and let it be a memory you can replay in your head over and over, whenever you like.
WATCH the world going by your window, and NOT Seven Psychopaths OR Oblivion.
@thepeterbrooker
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