Archive for March, 2011

Strange Little Girls

March 31, 2011

I was more than a little apprehensive about going to see Sucker Punch, the latest movie from Zack Snyder, who is white of teeth and lantern of jaw and looks every inch the American quarterback. I both enjoyed and admired his previous jawn Watchmen, not only because I read the graphic novel in my impressionable teens (and again in my jaded twenties) and loved it but also because the adaptation was so faithful. Impressively, Snyder chose not to pander to the audience, choosing instead to weave a visually stunning, narratologically complex story which played out on multiple layers. Whereas other movies, particularly those leaping from the Superhero canon, spoonfeed the audience with exposition and clunky monologues explaining backstory, motivation and so on, Watchmen was much more obtuse. It demanded that the audience keep pace with its slow and at times unwieldy plot. I respect that greatly. Here was a film which did not pander to the viewer and credited us with more than a modicum of intelligence. Not that it was short on spectacle. Some of the action, particularly the pow-wow in a high security prison, was fantastically choreographed and brutally violent.



Press Start To Begin.

March 29, 2011


If you’ve stumbled across this flimsy excuse for a blog , which in reality is my flimsy excuse to write about myself and my geeky interests, you have either 1. come here because I told you to do so 2. been googling for reviews of the new Dead Space game, which I will no doubt rave about in the frothiest terms imaginable 3. been looking for information on the new David Fincher movie, which I will rave about in even frothier terms and no doubt lose my dignity in the process.

Whatever your reasoning, it’s more than likely that you’ll be disappointed. This is, after all, a thinly shaded outlet for my dork-estrian activities. An outlet for my thoughts on the various media with which I find myself – as a grown adult with a responsible job, married with a little growing family – obsessed. Not dangerously obsessed, but close enough. That list would include videogames, movies, music and quality American television shows. I stipulate American because, let’s face it, British television is by and large about as enjoyable as playing KerPlunk with a dead ferret. We’ve all been there.