Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Thursday, July 30, 2009


Popped to see low budget wonder film 'Moon' yesterday. Oh it's alright, and Sam Rockwell is pleasant enough to look at from some angles, but curiously not all. You can see all the reviews saying that it was a 'brave' role. To me, this means that if this were Meryl Streep she wouldn't wear any make-up and sport that special shapeless grey cardigan given to all actresses involved in dramas where a lot of cleaning products are on show in their kitchen. Here bravery translates as Rockwell having to stand around in pants and vest, looking a little tired and pot-bellied. Like the weight restrictions made him leave any kind of Nivea behind on Earth. The film depends on him delivering a powerhouse performance and yes, he's great in it - but not brilliant. You can tell something is up when he's sometimes outshone by an emoticon.

Speaking of which, the other main cast member is Kevin Spacey as Rockwell's robot help, a suspended box with a HAL-like eye and an inexplicable coffee mug holder (perhaps someone misunderstood the name 'mooncup'?). Spacey is doing his best HAL impression - his emotionless delivery is on par with any Megan Fox performance; and the slight echo to the voice is very unnerving. Like he was reading it in the steamroom of Gentleman's Health Spa 'Pleasuredrome' - which happens to be a few doors down from The Old Vic. I'm just saying, is all. I shall watch it again on DVD with the sound up, listening to see whether I can hear the furtive shuffling of towels in the corner, the distant laughing of Polish boy functionaries throwing around their mops and buckets, and the light crunch of the unfathomable grit that fills the place.

Overall, good film. Not great - it feels like there's just one element missing to make it a classic. And the plot twist (helpfully given away in the trailer) will leave Gentlemen Who Tape The Oscars smiling a wry smile at what they'd do when they discover what's in the crashed Lunar vehicle. I think it'd be a great way to while away three years, but then I've always been a little narsssistic. Grin.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Heigl High Water

I love a good disaster movie... And for once I'm not talking about anything with Katherine Heigl in. Yeesh, I tell you, I was snacking on my popcorn, waiting for Ryan Reynolds/Sandra Bullock magnum opus 'The Proposal' to start when I was forced to sit through the trailer for 'The Ugly Truth' - her latest hour-and-a-half of her tossing her thinning hair at some man, while she gives them the side eye with her gimlet eyes. Oh, and then some stunt-woman dressed as her fell out of a tree. My my, comedy gold. You have to pity any stunt woman who has to dress as Heigl - not only do you have to wear a weave that looks like its been combed by a lawn edger, but also be next to her on set while she invariably tells all and sundry how hard and horrible Hollywood is to work in. Let me tell you, honey: I've worked in the other side of Hollywood in a couple of... specialist films. And yes, we were worked hard for 17 hour days and could barely sit down on the bus home, but we were grateful for it! We may have been paid in bottlecaps and Luncheon Vouchers, but we were happy! So snap out of it, love. You're only this close from the IMDB ignominy of 'straight-to-DVD' by the big beary presence of Gerard Butler as your co-star.

Oh he'd get it. He could come over and buff my floor. Yes, my pelvic one.

Ahem. I'll just straighten my tie - where was I? Oh yes. Disaster movies. I love it when they run one of them on the main channels here - you get to skip back and forth in the plot by using their own catch-up '+1' channel. So yesterday Channel 4 was showing the brilliant 'Poseidon Adventure' and you could skip between scenes:

One channel: Shelley Winters is climbing up the Christmas tree.
Skip on: She's dying of a heart attack for no reason to get an Academy nomination!
Skip back: Roddy McDowall is drowned in the galley!
Back again: Gene Hackman sends them all to safety after his "Take my life!" speech.

Brilliant. All films should come with this option. Certainly every Kathrine Heigl one: oh look, she's kooky, tossing her whispy locks and fancies a man. SKIP TO! Oh look, she's made a complete cock of herself, but that only makes the man love her more! They get married, the end!

Finally one I'd watch!

Friday, July 24, 2009


It's probably typical Virgoan hypochondria, but I reckon I've had this swine flu for a fortnight now. But at a really low level, so there's no point bothering anyone with it - much less demanding the apparently rare drugs. And besides, 'Tammy Flu' is going to be my new drag name.

Well, see. I've been getting all they symptoms one after the other; serial rather than parallel. This last few days has been the joint pain, leaving me hobbling around like Dannii Minogue picking herself up off the pool table after that (alleged) incident with the rugby team. I was walking around the British Museum and my knee gave out, leaving me grabbing around for support. And that's how I came to be kneeding the tit of some Greek God in the Elgin Marbles, while rubbing my inner thigh and wincing. I tell you, it's shocking what they try and detain you for. Don't museum ushers hold your elbow really tight while they're escorting you?

Don't worry, as soon as I get the cough and the sore throat, I'm going to be straight onto that NHS hotline that's been set up and, according to the Daily Express (a rag so xenophobic they probably resent having to use black ink), entirely staffed by illiterate Polish men. Well, fancy! Sounds like heaven to me. Though the only words I know in Polish I've picked up from my Gentleman's Recreational Videos, so I'm going to have to modify "I've come to fix your boiler" to "Will you fix my throat?"

I'm sure I can piece it together somehow. Grin.

Thursday, July 09, 2009

Glitter for Brains At The Movies! Transformers 2!  

This has been one of the hardest G4B At The Movies I've ever had to write because in order to take the piss out of something, you must pretty much understand why the event happens. This film makes absolutely no sense: things happen because the cack-handed people behind the camera just jump from one idea to the next because they think it'll be cool. It's racist, sexist, loud and annoying. And without any further ado, we present...

We go so you don't have to!

Warning: contains deliberate spoilers!

OPTIMUS PRIME: For two years, we have been working secretly with the military to save this planet.

THE AUDIENCE: Well, at the end of the last one, you destroyed the whole of downtown LA, so I think the cat's out the bag about your 'secret'.

They BLOW UP half of TOKYO. Clearly IN CONFIDENCE.

THE AUDIENCE: You know, with all these explosions and portents, we've long thought that Michael Bay and Roland Emmerich make these films as love letters to each other.

MEANWHILE, over at SHIA LABEOUF'S house, he finds a shard of the CUBE MACGUFFIN from the FIRST FILM. It makes a lot of NAMED BRANDS turn into ROBOTS, so they can now do ADVERTS about your DYSON being cool enough to KILL YOU and think this will inexplicably make you BUY ONE.

The MOST ANNOYING one created is a little RC TRUCK who speaks like JOE PESCI. It ESCAPES. Unfortunately.

SHIA LABEOUF: Megan Fox, yellow transforming car - I'm off to college. To show what a dickless spaz I am, I'm leaving you both here.

MEGAN FOX slowly gets UNDRESSED for the camera. This is to distract the MALE AUDIENCE from there being no COHERENT PLOT so far. Director MICHAEL BAY is clearly hoping that TRANSFORMING HOUSEHOLD APPLIANCES are good enough to distract the FEMALE AUDIENCE.

MICHEAL BAY: ZOMG TOTALLY PWNED!!!! You did not say that!!1!!!11!!! I am so not that sexist!!!ONE!!!!ELEVEN!!


Meanwhile, the DECEPTICONS have retrieved the other remains of the CUBE MACGUFFIN from the FIRST FILM.

ONE OF THE DECEPTICONS: We're going to slam it into Megatron's chest to bring him to life!

THE AUDIENCE: But wasn't that what killed him in the first place..?

They SHRUG and DO IT anyway. It WORKS because this film has decided LOGIC and CONTINUITY are best left to better films like LINDSAY LOHAN'S 'I KNOW WHO KILLED ME'.

MEANWHILE, SHIA LABEOUF is at COLLEGE. He has been taken there by HIS PARENTS. His MOTHER is given a POT CAKE, because this is clearly what happens to everyone as soon as they set foot on COLLEGE CAMPUS. His MOTHER then RUGBY-TACKLES TEENAGE BOYS, tells everyone her SON is no longer a VIRGIN and other EMBARRASSING THINGS.

THE AUDIENCE: Well, this is clearly cutting-edge humour. Although, distressingly, this will turn out to be the funniest part of the film.

SHIA LABEOUF goes to CLASS. The PROFESSOR taking the class is a NERD. Despite this, there are many shots of HOT WOMEN IN SHORT SKIRTS leaning forward and crossing and uncrossing their legs like his mere presence and whiny voice has turned them up to GASH MARK FIVE. This is to show THE AUDIENCE that apparently HOT WOMEN find NERDS sexy.

SHIA LABEOUF spazzes out over some SYMBOLS or something. Its not really adequately explained, and before we can object one of the HOT WOMEN IN SHORT SKIRTS launches herself at SHIA LABEOUF. She turns out to be a SEXBOT, who had to be designed and had to enroll in a college that THE DECEPTICONS may or may not have known SHIA LABEOUF was about to go to be at. There are, in theory, one of these SEXBOTS in all the colleges in AMERICA in case SHIA LABEOUF had gone there.


MICHAEL BAY: PEW! YEAH BANG! That'll learn you, you... books!

THE AUDIENCE: But aren't you all about glorifying nerds?

MICHAEL BAY: Only cool nerds! You know, who like Halo! Pew!Pew!Pew!


MICHAEL BAY: You know, at the IMAX, this fight is going to be more or less full scale! ZOMG!

Apparently OPTIMUS PRIME is killed. We only KNOW THIS because SHIA LABEOUF starts crying, rather than from the CAMERA MOVEMENTS which are like they have STRAPPED the LENS to the back of a LABRADOR with A.D.D.

SHIA and MEGAN escape to find some OLD DECEPTICON. They BRING IT TO LIFE with a shard of the CUBE MACGUFFIN. MEGAN FOX doesn't have any lines in this scene, so she remains blank and stares roughly in the direction of WHOEVER is speaking.

THE AUDIENCE: Waaaait. If it brings this one back to life, why can't it bring back Optimus Prime?

The little RC TRUCK humps MEGAN FOX'S LEG so as not to answer. Then the OLD DECEPTICON comes to life and takes them all to EGYPT. They drive around a bit until SHIA announces:

SHIA LABEOUF: Oh my god, it's the police!

THE AUDIENCE: What? Why? Did we miss something?

MICHAEL BAY: LMAO!!!!!Nonono!! It's just more EXCITING!!!!111!!!

THE AUDIENCE: Stuff you think is exciting happens for no reason? God, that could be the movie tag-line.


DEEP ROY, the CHECKPOINT OPERATOR: Oh my god, you're American! We foreigners all love Americans, with your flags and Big Macs and everything! Go through, go through!


THE AUDIENCE: I think we skipped off 'realism' a while back with the talking trucks, but this is ridiculous.


GENERAL GENERAL #5: It says 'Bring the rain'.

MICHAEL BAY: ZOMG I so have a lapful of sperm.

THE AUDIENCE: This film would be 15 minutes shorter if you edit all the lingering shots of tanks and guns.


And so we reach the CLIMAX of the FILM. Where SHIA LABEOUF and MEGAN FOX have to get across some DESERT to cross to OPTIMUS PRIME and WAKE HIM UP with some FAIRY DUST, while some DECEPTICONS mash at the PYRAMIDS to release AN ANCIENT WEAPON to DESTROY THE SUN.

SHIA LABEOUF and MEGAN FOX have to run a MILE in SLOW MOTION so the camera can linger on her TITS.

THE AUDIENCE: Why? Why are they running? Why don't they just jump in the yellow car one and drive all the way to Optimus Prime?


THE AUDIENCE: Oh for fuck's sake.

The TRANFORMERS smash each other AGAIN. Sometimes in SLOW MOTION, sometimes NOT.

MICHAEL BAY: ZOMG LMAO!PEW!PEW!PEW! There are 48 new Transformers in this film! That's so COOL!

THE AUDIENCE: Er. OK. I can see the truck one, and the yellow car one. Oh there's the hideous Racist Twins who speak in jive, have gold teeth and can't read, and the little car that speaks like Joe Pesci for no reason... 48? Are you sure?

SHIA LABEOUF and MEGAN FOX hide because there's AN AIRSTRIKE coming. Behind a fucking BUSH. We're not kidding.

SHIA LABEOUF puts the magic fairy dust on OPTIMUS PRIME and he WAKES UP. He puts on NEW ACCESSORIES so that a NEW TOY can be released.

OPTIMUS PRIME: Lets roll out..!


The AUDIENCE rolls their eyes instead.

Some TRANSFORMERS DIE, some DON'T. The EVIL seems VANQUISHED, but no-one who leaves the CINEMA can remember HOW.

OPTIMUS PRIME: And so, the status quo has been restored, and everything is pretty much as it was at the start of the film. Except, we will have sold more toys. Promotional items: lets roll out..!


The End.

Tuesday, July 07, 2009


The Boy and I are getting a kitten, just like proper settled gays. Next it'll be stretch pants and toupees, and trying to get local youths to fix some aspect of the house in shorts.

She's one of the mad scramble that are on this web-cam:

Problem is, she can't be taken away from her mother til she's 12 weeks old, so it's like she's been ordered from Amazon and in postal limbo. 'Your kitteh has been dispatched and you will be notified when she is available for delivery'.

Oh hurry up. Some of the best toys are the ones without batteries.

Tranny 2

I've been trying to write a Glitter For Brains At The Movies for Transformers 2 for two weeks now, but it was such an unmitigated pile of crap that every time I try and apply my brain to sift through the plot to make some reason behind it, my brain shuts down.

It's not a pleasant sensation. Though at least I get to see through the eyes of Myleen Klass for a while.

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Bolly Wood.

Well done, India! You've finally made man-love legal! Aww step up, step up and take your place in the 20th Century - we'll wave at you from just inside the 21st with a knowing wink and an urge to spoil you the end of 'Friends' for you (hint: they're no longer on a break..!) I think you're terrific!

Actually, I do think you're terrific. Because I understand that sex is taboo in India, so to have a ban lifted is actually huge. And it's all from a 'colonial edict' meaning that it's all us damn British who went over there and put a stop to any kind of bum-fun in the first place, as well as making all the ladies pose for the cover of PG Tipps boxes. Viva independence! Viva getting a length up you round the back of the Taj Mahal!

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

Temperature's Risin'...

I pop to a psychic now and again - she's nothing too dramatic, just a pitch-black poncho and a lot of bangles - and she told me that I'd be in danger of having an affair through work and work alone. Which is great for me, as I usually work from home, and thankfully the only other man that I see during the day is the postman. Who is, ironically, nothing to write home about. Hurrah, I'm safe!

Well, all of a sudden I'm back at the BBC for a two week stint and the temperature's though the roof - which always gets me close to dragging my ass across the floor like a dog in heat. If I were a woman (heaven forfend) I can tell I'd be turned right up to Gash Mark Five, and my lettuce would look like its had a snail disco on it for a weekend. And normally average men are now wearing t-shirts that flatter their arms and shorts that flatter their asses, and all of a sudden I'm finding myself stuck in lifts with them. And unlike the lift, I reckon I could take a 22 or 23 load with no alarm.

I'll keep you posted.