Film 2010, Barry Norman I ain’t…

A good evening was had last night. Only due to the fact that Mum in Law volunteered her services to baby sit. Not such a big deal you might think, but when your son is very successfully hiding the 666 tattoo somewhere about his person you start to get idea of the magnitude of the task. At least there were no Rotweillers, 4 ugly horseman and various demons and imps setting up shop outside our house when we got back. So good news. My daughter was and is an absolute angel. They both are getting the same upbringing, so the diametrically opposed personalities has answered in no uncertain terms the nature v nurture question for me.

Sorry, major digression there, back to the evening. A few swift ales in the Dodford was followed by a trip to the cinema to watch Avatar.

Wifey and my daughter both absolutely loved everything about it. I sat there knowing that I had seen the future of cinema. Nothing will ever be the same again. I sort of know now how Sir Frank Whittle must have felt when he saw his first jet fly knowing that every plane that went before is now totally obsolete. 

I am sure that the art director, cinematographers and special effects folks will all get shed loads of awards. The effects were stunning, the 3D real while not being corny and the thought and attention to detail that went into it were quite literally on another planet. I cannot praise highly enough how the whole film looked and felt.

Now to do my Jeremy Clarkeson bit…

But. The story was more full of cliches than the average MassiveMTBer blog. The acting was wooden, the character development was non-existant, the plot, what there was of it was so predictable as was the script. I was half way through the film playing a game with myself to predict what would be said next, I was mostly correct. 

The baddie was so full of old Hollywood character traits that I was amazed they didn’t give him a black hat and a droopy moustache, the good guy was a disabled Marine?! Oh please! Just how much of an obvious attempt to tug at our heart strings can you get? I’m surprised they didn’t ship in his pet Labrador and summarily execute it during the attack scene. Oh sorry I forgot, they did a similar thing to the love interests angry flying horse thingy.

And as for the “message”, I felt like someone was beating me about the head with a large brick wrapped in a burning  manuscript that had a very long and a very apologetic entreaty about the environment, Imperial Conquests and the genocide of the Native American peoples written in blood on it. I guess subtlety was not on the agenda when making the film. I have actually seen more subtlety both in plot lines and acting when I watch Lazytown with the Spawn of Satan.

So to summarise: A magnifcent visual spectacle that cannot be missed, a story, acting and message that leave a lot to be desired.

Onto bike/weight stuff. My interview for BBC Radio 5 Live seemed to go ok. I’ll supply a link when I get it. I can’t really remember much about it to be honest as it seemed to go just like a very informal telephone conversation. It lasted about 5 minutes I guess. The very nice lady who interviewed me was from my neck of the woods too, so we had something in common to kick off with. She seemed quite impressed that when she called I was making some Pakora using an Asian mate of mine Mum’s recipe. Probably not what you want to hear when you call to talk about weight loss and excercise for your radio show!

Later on after shopping I’ll be sorting my commuter out and getting my cycling kit sorted for next week. I’m looking forward to a full week’s worth of pedalling next week as the met is looking wet but not snowy. At last!

Then I hope to be paying a visit to my Old Sergeant Major, I haven’t seen him in a while which I always feel crushingly guilty about. He’s a top bloke who deserves better off his troops. We never get together often enough as a group which is just not bloody good enough.


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