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http://drhorrible.com
If you haven't seen it. Then go now. From what I hear it'll be gone by midnight on Sunday.
There'll be more chances to see it later when you can buy the DVD, but you should also see it now.
Feeling: singy Hearing: with my freeze ray I will stop... the world
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I just finished watching the last episode in this season's “Lost.” Yes there will be spoilers coming up now. You might find it hard to believe, but I did realise it wasn't a flashback this week but instead a flash-forward. How did I work it out? Jack's cell-phone. That model wasn't available when the plane crashed, or should I say when it was supposed to have crashed; obviously it's not real. (As in it’s a TV show. This is not the start of another great “Lost” conspiracy theory.) Of course, if you were to ask me if I now have a clue what on earth is happening on the island I'd have to say "No!" I don't know why I'd say it so forcefully, but it seems the right way to say it. It's been a good season. Although there hasn't been all that much revelation, we don't know much more about their island, it's still an enjoyable and entertaining show. Something I haven't mentioned before is that the music is always exceptionally good on “Lost.” It really does help to set the mood. Everything from the swishy noise that takes us to a flashback to the concussion that takes us to the end of an act or an ad break plays its part to perfection. But the real beauty of the music is the slow, lingering piano. Without that, it would probably be a completely different show. I wish someone would make a compilation video of the story of Jin and Sun. Theirs is a twisting, turning tale that has revealed quite some revelations to us. It doesn't all seem to have played out in the most chronological fashion. When you see the story from the point of view of the later episodes it gives you a whole new perspective on Sun being the good one and Jin being the bad one. I'd like to watch their story chronologically, all the way from the Sun being a little girl who lies really well, through the moment she borrowed money from her father subjecting Jin to a life of crime, to Jin becoming an overbearing ass and Sun deciding to leave him. Who knows, such video might already exist on the mighty Internet, but I haven't looked for it, which means I've never found it. I never paid attention when they made the announcement of how many seasons were left to go. I just hope they're all as good as the first years have been. 300 - I laughed when I heard about the controversy surrounding this movie. A lot of people kept talking about how it was a politically motivated film all about the current war in Iraq and very anti-Iran. These people really do need to get a clue. The film is based on a graphic novel by Frank Miller and Lynn Varley which came out before the war started and it's a virtual word for word, shot for shot remake. When you don't buy into that drama you take it for the action movie it's supposed to be, and as an action movie it works well. There's nothing much more to say about it. Girlfight - This one came out a long time ago and I've only just seen it. Michelle Rodriguez isn't as much of a bad ass in this as she usually is. Instead we get to see her vulnerable for the first time, perhaps the only time. Although, on saying that, her character on "Lost" had a few problems. Anyway, it's a good little movie and you can see how it spawned a career for Rodriguez. The good thing about this film is that it doesn't have an ending like "Million Dollar Baby." We get to like some people and then keep on liking them after the credits roll. Inside Man - Warning, many spoilers - doesn't make a whole lot of sense motivation wise. Of all the motivations for robbing a bank, I still think money is the most plausible. Getting payback against those that profited from the Nazis is all very well and good but take some money while you're in there. You would also think that someone in the bank would have noticed the smell coming from the hastily cut latrine behind the shelves. Other than that, a completely adequate movie experience. The Host - Fabulous. I like the kind of monster movie where the monster gets to run around in the sun. I think it says on the box that it's kind of a cross between "Jurassic Park" and "Jaws," which in a sense it is, but it doesn't have any of the wonder that happens at the start of "Jurassic Park." Well actually, there is a kind of wonder at the start, however, it's more in the "what is that giant thing running towards me?" sense. I really do like the monster not needing the dark thing. The incompetent government, tricky American thing is also good. But the real highlight of the film, the real driving force behind it, is the family. They're all different, they're all believable, and they're all wonderful to have on screen. Each comes with their own vice, which they will have to overcome during the course of the movie, and of course their own strengths. But it's the way they all come together to poke fun at each other's weaknesses and use each other’s strengths that makes them a believable on-screen family. There's going to be a big budget American remake; expect all the nuances of character to be lost, then a much happier ending to be added. Re-cycle - was directed by the people that directed “The Eye.” If I remember correctly, they’re also the people that will be remaking “The Host” for the American market. Recycle starts as the story of a writer, then things go crazy. It's hard to tell you what it is really about without spoiling it all. It starts off with the look and feel of a horror like “The Grudge,” but then drifts into something more like an adult version of “Labyrinth.” There are some wonderful effects, and seemingly large production values at times, but then at other times, it distinctly looks like we’re on a sound stage. It's an interesting movie in that the idea is a good one, but you have to wonder about the execution at times. Even though it's visually splendid, there was so much more that could have been done with the actual storyline. It's certainly worth watching for the ideas it encourages you to think about. Maybe in a few years, when everyone's had a chance to watch it, I could talk about it some more, but until then, this would all be spoilers. Buffy: the Vampire Slayer - Season 8 - this is only available in comics, but it is the direct continuation of the television series, written by Joss Whedon himself. We're only three issues in just now, but the quality is there for all to see. Things have moved on since the end of the TV series, but everyone you know and love is back. There's even a fantastic throwaway line that explains the whole "Immortal" episode of "Angel." Although The Joss himself is writing the first few issues, he will soon be handing it over to other writers to continue for him, but he will remain the showrunner, like he was on the series. I imagine the quality will therefore remain just as good. Amy has returned to do some dastardly magic, and so has Ethan Rayne. Xander is Mr command centre guy. Buffy is her usual go get ‘em self. Oh… and Dawn's a giant. This entire post was brought to you by voice recognition software. Feeling: like ripping off the headphones and crying Hearing: my own voice clearly played back, yet ununderstandable to this system
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Morning, the 24th of May 2007. There's nothing special about today that I know of. It's a quarter past four as I start typing this and the black sky has just started lightening into a cloud covered grey/blue. I can hear some of the early birds, though I don't know why their faces aren't filled with worms right now. Most aren't up yet. I like early mornings. I wish I lived in a better area for going out and about in them. The trouble is I have some way to go before I get to the places that are really good for walking in. I can't wait until I'm filthy rich. The day that happens I will be happy, and I'll go walking that morning. I've just finished reading this rant by Joss Whedon, which has been linked to in many places. I wish I could structure my arguments as well as that. I never take the time really. I just start typing. I like the bit where he says, "I’ve always had a bent towards apocalyptic fiction, and I’m beginning to understand why." I've felt that same way for a long time too. I also identify with this line, "I have never had any faith in humanity." Don't get me wrong, I do have faith in individual people. Most people are fantastic. The things we can accomplish, the ideas people can have, truly boggle the mind, but collectively, we're a menace to every other thing there is. Here is the abridged version of some of the contents of Richard Dawkins' "The Selfish Gene" which I find amazing. It comes after a bit detailing how populations size depends on four things, births, deaths, immigrations and emigrations. Of course the later two don't come into it when we consider the world population as a whole. The figures given are from when the book was published so obviously aren't going to be 100% accurate for today, but the trend hasn't changed. "In each generation the population, instead of going up by a fixed amount, increases by something more like a fixed proportion of the size that it has already reached. Since this size is itself getting bigger, the size of the increment gets bigger... ...the present population of Latin America is around 300 million, and already many of them are undernourished. But if the population continued to increase at the present rate, it would take less than 500 years to reach the point where the people, packed in a standing position, formed a solid human carpet over the whole area of the continent. This is so, even if we assume them to be very skinny... ...in 1,000 years they would be standing on each other's shoulders more than a million deep... ...It will not happen like that for some very good practical reasons. The names of some of these reasons are famine, plague, and war; or, if we're lucky, birth control... ...It is a simple logical truth that, short of mass migration into space, with rockets taking off at the rate of several million per second, uncontrolled birth-rates are bound to lead to horribly increased death-rates. It is hard to believe that this simple truth is not understood by those leaders who forbid their followers to use effective contraceptive methods. They express a preference for 'natural' methods of population limitation, and a natural method is exactly what they're going to get. It is called starvation." This is what I see when I look at the world merely from one angle. Whether or not you believe in the greenhouse effect or not, pollution is real, and it has real effects. Over-fishing is real. Poaching is real. As Dawkins says in a bit I missed out up there, our fancy new farming methods will alleviate the symptoms for a short time only... and in fact the abundance of cheap food they will generate may even speed it all up. The way I see the greenhouse effect is this: it either is real or it isn't. Either we can do things to cut carbon emissions or we can't. Doing those things will either throw the world economy into turmoil, or they can be done without that effect. If the greenhouse effect is real, and gets worse, the world economy will be thrown into turmoil by the effects. Let's analogise this to make it easier to understand. You're that hiker that got his arm pinned under a rock and you can't pull it out. You have a pocket knife. There's a non-zero chance that someone will come up this hiking path in time to spot you and save you, but no-one knows you're there, so no-one is looking. You realise you have two options, wait for rescue, or cut off your arm with the pocket knife and go get your own help. Here are the two worst case scenarios: If you cut off the arm and someone shows up, you are put into immense pain, lose the use of that arm forever and feel like a bit of a twit for hacking off your arm with a pocket knife when you didn't have to... but you're alive. If you don't, and no one comes, you are put into immense pain and lose the use of both arms forever. The longer you wait, the weaker you'll get and the less likely it'll be that you will be able to cut off the arm and still make it to help in time. It's a tough choice for sure, but personally I'd rather have one arm than none. Incidentally, the guy cut off his arm, got to help and lived. It is unknown whether anyone would have passed that spot in time to save him. If you want to hear about that actual story click this. I just got to thinking about trapping and how animals bite their legs off when caught in a trap. Of course they do. They couldn't begin to think of help coming. If a human showed up he'd most likely be the trapper there to kill it, not that they'd comprehend that at the time of capture. They have the choice of bite or die. Humans can be assholes. Some people use devices like clay pigeon shooters to throw squirrels, after first luring them onto the device with food. The things are so quick and vicious I can only imagine the squirrels ending up either seriously injured or dead, and why, because it needs to eat to live, and people can be assholes. Anyway, back to the analogy and I've thought of another simpler way of saying it all, which is used for many things. "I'd rather have it and not need it, than need it and not have it." I'd rather we cleaned up the environment without really "needing" to, than to "need" to and not do it. Why pollute in any form when it's unnecessary? Greed or Laziness. Two things the governments of the world should be penalising in companies... and people, (damn I hate litterbugs.) Anyway, the main point I dragged myself away from a long time ago was, with that as an indicator, an example of the ways humans unconsciously screw things up, it's no wonder the easiest futures to imagine are ones where everything goes wrong. There are so many more ways to go wrong than right. Getting it right takes thought and effort. Getting it wrong takes none at all. Weird, I suck at maths but seem to like tangents. I was watching a show the other day called "Return of the Tribe." It was about six members of a tribe from Papua New Guinea coming to live in Britain for a while, as the host had gone to live with them in their village for a while previously. I love watching that kind of thing even though we're talking about hunter-gatherers here, and they kill things a lot. At least they only kill what they need, and try their best to let the animals they need to survive flourish in the jungle around them. I watch these because I'm interested in human evolution, and these kinds of people, especially in the jungles of West Papua, are still living the same way their ancestors did; a stone age existence for the most part. Despite killing every day, sometimes going to war with neighbouring tribes and their "primitive" ways, they always seem like the most friendly, welcoming, big-hearted, loving people I've ever seen. This was apparently the second of two programs, and I missed the first, but they showed a kind of "previously on..." segment before it which had the most amazing moments on it. I wish I'd seen the first part. Like, one of them saw an automatic door for the first time and his eyes went wide. He did that thing where you go towards it until it opens then jump back. It was wonderful to see the sheer amazement in his face. Then he said, "What magic this is. I am so glad to see this." I don't think anyone here can truly imagine what that must have felt like to him. Others saw a church and thought it must have been built by God himself because of all the sculptures, frescos, the dome and all that stuff. They thought no man could make something like that. In this episode some of them saw snow for the first time. I wish I'd caught the first one. People can be pretty wonderful at times. Unreported World is still going strong. I wish it was longer. It never gets as in-depth as I'd like in its coverage, but without it, there's a whole bunch of things going on I just wouldn't know about. It just shines a spotlight on something going on in the world I haven't heard about, outlines it, and then moves on to the next thing. Fascinating viewing anyway. I hope that's me finished. I can't be bothered thinking of more or error correcting now. Morning's here, so it's time to go to bed. Feeling: like morning's finally really here Hearing: Birds chirping away like mad
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Our story begins on the afternoon of the show just before I leave, but, I'm sorry ladies, after my shower.
The weather here is notoriously changeable so I used my usual trick of taking out my Evil Chewbot before heading off. I wasn't all that surprised to see beautiful blue skies almost as far as the eye could see. After all, for the last two days I've had my curtains open during the day and I've noticed on more than one occasion that the yellow face can be quite hot at times. So, knowledge gained, I headed inside and started getting my stuff together. Inhaler: check. Wallet: check. Movie-Star-good-looks: check. Coat? No, it's nice and toasty outside, can't fool me with that one. A T-Shirt will do. I checked the clock and realised I was running a little late to walk into town and make it anywhere near the 1pm everyone said they would be meeting at. Intelligent as I am I realised my best remaining option and made sure I had coins for the bus. When I figured it was about the time the bus would be nearing my stop I smiled a little I think, and then I headed out into the biting chill of a cold wind.
The reality of this never really hit until I was closer to the bus-stop than home. The point of no return had been passed. For better or worse, I was committed. I glanced towards the yellow face for reassurance but he couldn't give me any. He was busy anyway, being mugged by a huge, floating, grey blob. If I had to describe the exact colour of that blob I'd probably say, "Oh yeah, and how are you going to make me, tough guy, huh?" Lamenting the shameful over-confidence in my meteorological knowledge I trudged on, coatless, calming myself a little with a reassuring and helpful phrase, "Serenity now." The bus stop was empty. The sinking feeling arose that maybe I had missed it. "Serenity now." But patience proved its virtue soon enough (which wasn't soon enough) and there she appeared, glistening in the glow of the magnificent yellow face, who I think was only trying to catch a breath through the blob's... whatever kind of anatomy a blob has, it was between two bits of it.
So I got on the bus and maybe, just maybe, had a little giggle, but not a loud one and nobody heard me, or if they did they were smart enough to keep that knowledge to themselves. I sat, travelling, which doesn't happen all that often for me, preferring to walk most places, and I felt kind of odd not having a book with me to flip open and read, but I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to concentrate on a word anyway. Serenity soon! There's a chance, though a small one, I giggled again. Then I went inside my mind for a bit. What if they were still here? THE JOSS and the cast were at the premiere only two days before, what if they were still in town? I imagined all kinds of strange meetings where I smooth talked him into hearing my TV show ideas, which he loved... or he saw those Movie-Star-good-looks I mentioned earlier and decided I must be cast in his next major motion picture... or the prettier cast members just happened... well let's just say, Richard Curtis would be proud. Then I was distracted by a strange tapping noise to my right. My eyes focused back on reality and I tried to make out what the strange bubble looking things were on the window next to me... they couldn't be, because... Well, no one told me it was monsoon season. This is information I feel I should have had before making the now apparently ridiculous coat decision. Serenity Now!
I saw a man walking down the road in a blue shirt, I think he's a Rain God. At the point we passed him the rain was at its heaviest. It seemed to have deep affection for him. Whether it was love or just lust, I can't really say. When I was younger, I was a Rain God of a sort. I could tell the weather how I wanted it to behave simply by wearing my coat, which was probably designed to be worn in Switzerland a few thousand feet above sea level with planks of wood strapped to the wearer's feet. Naturally when this coat was worn the yellow face unleashed his fury. When it was not... to put it mildly, it was moist. This is when I started to have a little hope. It seemed to me that I had somehow passed my gift along to this poor man. I don't think I'd ever met him before, but you know, one tag leads to another. Six degrees of separation and all that. By the look of his shirt it was retaining enough water to make a million super-models feel thin for the day. Ha ha, sucker! The curse is yours and you can only lift it by hiding in your room for years and years. So, my suspicions in place I watched as he disappeared in the distance and the sky began to clear. Pretty soon I was stepping off the bus into a bright, blue-sky day. Serenity now.
A choice was before me... well, to either side of me. Left or right, Chamber's Street, or the High Street? I mapped out my progress to the cinema in my head and realised it didn't make much difference either way, but since the bus stop was closer to the high street, I headed up that way. Strolling along at a nice pace my mind skipped back to my imaginings. I'd bump into THE JOSS around the corner, he'd have been out walking, and be heading to the cinema but didn't know where he was. "Hey, I'm headed that way myself. I'll show you the way." "Thanks. I kind of have to be there. They're showing my movie." "Ha, ha, you're Joss Whedon? Well I never, who would have thought it. It's Serenity I'm going to see. Although since I didn't recognise you I'm clearly not some kind of psycho fanatic." I turned the corner at the Tron and headed up towards... the... I couldn't believe my eyes... except I could... it was... it was... almost blocked by lots of people. I'd amazingly forgotten the whole reason Serenity is playing here now. The festival is on. The high street was chock-a-block with people. Half of these were handing out flyers to the other half. Then there were large amounts of space you couldn't walk through because the nutcase on the unicycle might very well drop either the chainsaw the sheers or the lit stick of dynamite on you... or if you're really unlucky, all three. Serenity NOW!
I felt like a fish, swimming against the shoal, then with the shoal, then across the shoal, and then the shoal would stop right in front of you for no reason and you'd have to do a hideously unflattering, lean, weight-redirection, quick-stepping, break-dance move to avoid a sexual assault charge or, perish the thought, getting a flyer. If I wasn't so fantastic I might have been caught for hours weaving back and forwards like the piggy in a game of piggy-in-the-middle. But I am. So, I escaped the High Street and continued on, thoughts finally re-appearing although tainted by having to endure that last obstacle. I knew there was no chance of them being there. The truth of the horrible nature of the world becomes frighteningly clear when its thrust into your hand as the flyer to a two hour play about a schoolboy stuck in an elevator with a sexy nun. (Okay, so there's no chance this is a real play, I just made it up to give you an idea of how bad some of the shows in the festival can be... and now that I think about that I guess it actually could be a real play, but I'm fairly sure it's not. At least not this year, at this festival. I think. But anyway, I'm too slick to get flyered.) Serenity Now.
As I start heading down the side of the castle a man stops me to ask directions. He's Spanish. I think this is the perfect opportunity to test my Spanish... but instead I start speaking in English, and my own amazingly communicative form of sign language. He's asked me where the entrance to the castle is, so I say, "Go up to the top," and I trace the route I mean, including the curve of the road with my finger, and his eyes follow it perfectly. If I were a doctor I think this would mean he's not concussed. Good on him. Then I say "you go left," and my finger instead of really going left traces back on itself but raises, following the gentle incline of the High Street. He's still with me. "And go straight up." And my finger keeps moving right to the castle, which is right in front of us, and I think he's just remembered that's where he's going, since he's now out of the hypnotic trance created by my finger. A look of absolute, complete comprehension comes to his face, and I know there's no chance he'll get lost on the way to the castle. I am quite possibly, in English anyway, and when I know where it is you want to go, one of the greatest direction givers in the world.
I continue down past the castle, thinking about how I'm not going to see the cast. They were there for the premiere, that's all they thought they'd do. These extra screenings were put on as an afterthought because they realised there was far more demand for tickets than they could cope with. I mean, it's really amazing with all that goes on in the festival that they could find room and the ability to get the logistics in place to actually screen these extra screenings. But at least I get to see Serenity. So I'm happy and I'm walking past the castle, and pretty girls are everywhere, because it's the festival, and life is good, even though I'm so close and so far and I don't get to see the movie people. And I continue, half-heartedly making up meeting scenarios that result in a blissful life of hard work and box office records. I'm taken out of this when I see the Footlights and Firkin pub... because it's not the Footlights and Firkin any more. It's just the Footlights. How depressing? No more asking the Firkin Bar Steward for a Firkin Beer. (No, that's not my joke, they had T-Shirts and everything.) I hope the same thing hasn't happened to every Firkin pub. I try not to get too disillusioned and angry at the loss of a simple joke, but I feel like I need another "serenity now."
I get up to Lothian Road and wait for the green man to tell me I can cross without getting squished. It's at this point, right in the middle of the street that I realise the yellow face definitely sent the blob squealing back to its den, blistered and possibly aflame. Thank goodness I never took the coat. Safely on the other side I wonder if it might not be worth risking a squishing for a quick retreat. I'm suddenly reminded of a very hot night in Edmonton where the fact that the city has a system of sewers became horrifically apparent. I walk on and I don't even try to hold my breath because I hear that not breathing is a generally bad idea. I get around a corner and everything is fine again. So I walk on, past a glass fronted office building and I, of course, take a look at my reflection. Seconds later I'm not breathing. Instead, my belly is sucked in as hard as I can do it, but it seems I don't breathe huge lungfuls anyway, because it doesn't fit. I give in, and let it out. It didn't look all that natural anyway. I'm sure no one was about to fall for the man with the oddly blue complexion and the weirdly puffed out chest because "oh my, look how flat that stomach is, that I can't see past the T-Shirt." Instead I decide to accept my belly and look at its good points. For instance there's the fact that it took not an insignificant amount of money to develop in the first place. Also, it's a nice, constant reminder of my Best Friend, Tim Horton. I walk on, and I'm getting close, and my excitement is rising, Serenity Now. I start to question the logic of meeting up an hour and a half before the film, when I'm just going to be an overexcited mess, tapping my feet on the floor and my fingers on any nearby table until I drive everyone insane. Serenity Now!
I'm in the home stretch now, the bar we... beer, sweet sweet, beer... 're meeting at is at the end of the road and then on the other side of the complex the cinema is in. Whichever parts of me haven't melted into a puddle on the street will be there in about five minutes. This is when I realise my excitement is a liability. We've all done it I'm sure. You like something, you know there's more coming in one form or another and you hope beyond hope that the continuation, the next bit, the sequel, the prequel, the media tie-ins written by people who had nothing to do with the original whatsoever will be just as awesome as the thing you loved in the first place. Then you get there with your expectations through the roof and there's no way anything in the world can ever meet those expectations. No matter what it turns out to be it can never be as good as this ethereal, unexamined idea, drifting through your head. If the idea isn't concrete you can't pick holes in it, so there are no holes at all in your image of what you're about to see. It's perfect; untouchable; or to put it in a way younger readers will appreciate, "1t R0xOrZ t3h bIg 0n3 1111!!!!1!!!!" So I keep walking, trying to bring down my hopes, which has about as much chance of success as my being spotted in the street by someone from a model agency and spending the next year on runways in Milan. For those of you who are interested, there is an easy way to get to spend time on a runway in Milan. Let off cherry bombs at an Italian air traffic controller convention.
By this point I'm half way past the cinema complex and looking for the bar we... beer, sweet sweet, beer... 're supposed to meet in. I work out where it is by reversing the directions I've been given, since my friends (not world class at directions like I am) have given me the directions they use to get there, not realising I live on the opposite side of the thing from them. I find the place, I get inside, I buy some Guinness because there's still a stupidly long time to go before the movie. I think there's a chance I said "Hello" to my friends, but I can't be sure. So we get to talking and... hmm, I better change the names of people to protect the innocent, so we'll call Bill; Cill, and Chris, Bhris. Davron we'll call Havron, and Harvey we'll call Darvey. There you go. So Cill starts telling us about what we missed by not being able to get tickets for the premiere, although I have no idea if he went to see them outside the place or if he knows someone who got in. Apparently the whole cast was there. They stood on the red carpet for photo ops. There was a sing-song lead by Adam Baldwin. When the cast were chatting with the fans, someone asked Joss to do his "Dance of joy" from "Angel," but he pleaded knee surgery. Nathan Fillion took up the challenge and did it instead. In short, all the very cool sounding things I would not get to do today. Not the ideal mood setter... but sitting at a table with the other eager faces, all trepidation was gone. We started talking, making jokes, none of which I remember because somewhere deep inside my mind I was watching the tick-tick of the clock counting down. Serenity Now!
It turns out we're here so early because on the day of the premiere it was packed. The line was long, there were photographers, there were, premierely things going on. I looked outside. We were not going to have that kind of problem. I hadn't even seen that many people going to the film yet. Yes, they are that easy to spot, here's a handy guide on how to spot the overwhelming majority of them; they're the ones in black. Easy, huh? I know black is supposed to be slimming, or the new aquamarine or whatever, but this was overkill. I started to worry that when I entered the theatre, if the lights were low, I'd never be able to see which seats were taken or not. It'd just look like a big, dark, empty space. I'd probably sit down roughly where I thought a chair would be and be roughly pushed off to the side, were someone else would immediately take umbrage at my sitting on them and pass me off again and so it would continue until an empty seat was underneath me. I thought it was a great idea. It'd save me having to climb the steps on my own. Despite the lack of people showing up yet, we decided to be on the safe side and move from the pub to... beer, sweet sweet, beer... the café inside the cinema. So we did. That was an uneventful piece of the journey, so I'll replace that with some music here. La la laaa, deeeeee. Dee dee, dee dee, da deeeeeee. La la laaa, deeeeeee. Dee dee, dee dee, dee, dee, deeeeeee.
So we get into the café and some people get coffees which weren't made at all by Tim Horton or any of his employees. Despite the abundance of nice, plush looking chairs we head over to the windows to sit on some high, wobbly stools on a table with possibly the worst design ever for a café table. The middle is a small circle, and then at the edges there's about four inches of metallic looking trim, which gently slopes downwards and is nice and curvy. You will definitely never cut yourself on the edge of this table, and that's a good thing. However, if you miss the small middle part your cup will almost certainly slide down the slope and off the table, covering you with hot coffee. Way to go fellas, you really had your thinking caps on for that one. As conversation continues they get to their night out on Friday and Darvey asks Havron, "Do you remember that guy that left before you got there? On Friday?" Which was funny, but not the funniest part of the story. He tries again. "You know that we said there was a guy who disappeared before you showed up?" "Yeah." "Well I was in work and he took me aside to tell me why, he said, 'I feel like I owe you an explanation for disappearing on Friday. Well, erm, I... well let's just say, you know how sometimes you think you're going to fart, and when you push it out you realise you were wrong? So I had to go home. I'm sorry for just disappearing." We were all stunned. For those of you too slow to understand why, here's a brief explanation. If you disappear when on a night out with people, do you owe them an explanation? Well, with some crowds you don't actually (John), but with these guys I think you do. So yes, he owed them an explanation, but let's be clear about one very important thing, and I'm doing anyone who doesn't know this a huge favour by telling them, "I shat myself" is never, EVER, that explanation. "I just suddenly realised I wasn't feeling well and needed to go home," is that explanation. "I got a phone call and had to go because someone needed me urgently for something," could very well be, that explanation. "I was too drunk, I was just out of it," has a fair shot at being that explanation. "A hot girl just asked me to go home with her right there and have the night of my life," is the clear thinkers version of that explanation. But this bears repeating, just in case you didn't get it the first time. "My air rifle turned out to be a plasma cannon." "The boys decided to use my chocolate whiz-way as a water-slide before I even got to the pool." "My gas mask doesn't work on liquids." "There was a prison break from camp colon." "The commandos went river rafting." "My poop-chute became a gloop-chute" "The dam burst on the rear passage." "Thought it was gas, turned out to be mass." "Something squishy happened" and "I can't keep my sphincter shut." Are not, that, explanation. You know what, if you're a guy, "I'm on my period" is still a better explanation. I'm not a big advocate of lying. I generally believe you should always tell the truth, but there are exceptions to every rule, and this is one of the front runners for the best time to lie.
An eternity later we head downstairs. The people who want to, load up on munchies and then we head towards the cinema. There is still no queue by the way. We walk the dark corridor and all the anticipation is building. I'm scanning every head I see for red hair and scruffy beard. Then I berate myself inside my head, "he's not here you idiot." The world seems to be speeding up, getting ready, and then it slams to a crawl in front of the door. They're asking people with video phones to put them into envelopes, I guess so they don't pirate the movie... yes, they are concerned people will pirate the movie on their phone. Technology is awesome. A beautiful girl asks me if I have a phone, I shake my head, almost wishing I could give her one. Yes, I'm so nervous some of the worst jokes in history are forming in my mind. I try to look suspicious in the hopes that she'll frisk me. It doesn't happen. We get past the security and as we're walking up the entrance to the screen I tell Darvey my great joke. "I almost wish I had a phone, because I'd give her one," I say. Darvey starts to shake his head. "Wow, I'm really funny today," I say. I'm horrible at making jokes like that about girls because everyone knows I do not have the stones to make good on any innuendo I've ever made, and probably don't mean half of them, still you can't let an opportunity for a classic bad joke slip or you're just not trying to have a good time. So naturally when the top one of Darvey's balanced stack of cardboard pots containing hot roasted nuts falls, I say, "Nuts!... See, I told you I was funny today." Even the usher about to take his tickets starts shaking her head. I tell you though, if a classic comic like Kermit T Frog said that joke, they'd be rolling in the aisles... one of which is what we were walking along at that very moment, I checked behind me; no one was rolling.
There were two spaces we could make out that had five seats next to each other vacant. One was near the front, the other near the back. One of the first in, I think it was Cill picked the one near the back. Didn't much matter since there was pretty much no chance at some slap-dash hastily created extra screening there'd be anyone of import there anyway. Although naturally I was telling myself this in the hopes of the universe proving me wrong, just to spite me. The universe is a hard thing to trick though, so I wasn't too happy with my chances, or was I? Was that a double bluff? We sat down, facing the front, and saw the microphone. There it was in the middle of the floor, in the gap between seats and screen. Could it be? Then, in came a photographer, with a lens so long it could only have been an extended comedy movie moment getting it in the doors and up the aisle. I looked at Darvey, to my left and said, "If Joss come in, we're going to have to stand up and clap, you realise that." I think he did. Then the oddest thing happened. The photographer started taking pictures of the microphone stand. This was not expected behaviour. He moved around, taking pictures of the microphone stand from many angles. "I think we've got our answer then. They're not going to be here. They're going to Photoshop them in after." It sucked. So Darvey got out his revels and we started a game of Russian Roulette. He got an orange. I took a toffee. Bhris got an orange. Darvey got a toffee. I got a toffee. Bhris got an orange. Darvey somehow got a raisin, even though I didn't know there were raisin ones in there. I took an orange. Bhris got another orange. Darvey tried again... his face changed, twisted a little, then between grimacing and retching he admitted defeat. He got a coffee. I looked at the little piece of card we got handed as we came in. It was a rating thing for a competition between the movies that were playing. There were five strips ranging from excellent to poor with little tabs on the top. You ripped off the tab to state how good you thought the film was and handed it in afterwards. It all became clear. This is what the microphone was for; the explanation, the instructions, the film introduction. Then a woman came in, took the microphone off the stand and placed it on the floor. Then she moved the stand to the back wall, past the side of the screen... and then she left.
Nothing made sense any more. Nothing. We sat, we waited. It took a while. People filtered in. People sat, people waited. Some people ripped the "excellent" portion of their voting card in pure expectation. I wanted to be fair, so I waited... and fully planned on ripping "excellent" after the movie. I waited for the lights to dim and the experience to get under way, and then it occurred to me; lights. The photographer was getting his levels properly worked out. A cinema doesn't have the best lighting conditions for photography... I started to perk up and thought about mentioning something to the others when a woman walked out onto what I can only really refer to now as the stage. "Hi everyone. Thanks for coming to this special extra screening of 'Serenity.' I'm the person who's going to slow down your experience of the movie by waffling on for a minute." Actually, I've paraphrased that line. It was more like, I'm [insert her actual name here because I forgot it] the [insert actual job title here because I forgot it] of the festival. You'll notice that when you came in you were handed these cards." She holds up the voting card. "You have those because this film is eligible for the 'Standard Life Audience Award.' After the movie you tear off the tab that corresponds to how good you thought the movie was. You might be surprised to hear, it's been doing rather well so far. Now before the movie starts there are a some people who would like to say a few words. JOSS WHEDON AND THE CAST OF SERENITY!" And they came bounding in like it was the Superbowl and their names had been called to run out the tunnel and take their place in the line up. At quarterback, NATHAN FILLION! Tight end, MORENA BACCARIN! Kicker, SUMMER GLAU, and coach, THE JOSS! Everyone started clapping like crazy, but my legs weren't receiving signals and I couldn't get up. I guarantee if one person had, everyone would have followed, but THE JOSS had to acknowledge people with a look that says "please stop clapping now, I get it," before we stopped. If we'd been standing, we'd still be there now. And before you say it, yes, I do know my american football analogy is stupid, but I like analogies, so sue me, and they're surprisingly apt anyway. You either know what I mean or you will if you see the trailer.
"Yes, this is the cast of Serenity. These three had to play all the parts due to budgetary reasons." He sounded just like he does on television, but he was real, honest to goodness there, breathing the same air that I was. None of them were just some computer generated illusion created on a screen to keep me believing a world exists outside my immediate perception while I'm secretly in the clutches of devious manipulators keeping me and my awesome skills from finding out the truth and turning against them, bringing down their nefarious regime... anyway... So THE JOSS says... you know what, you go to Canada and drive across the country but you don't know if it really does exist. I mean maybe the plane was a simulator. Maybe we went on to some big circular road that pretended to be the whole country because people changed the sets as we went. I don't know that. Most of the time on the ocean it looks the same. Who's to say the boat is really moving and not just dipping up and down to make it look like it? Sorry... So THE JOSS says he hopes we enjoy the film, which is nice because then you can identify with him more, we have something in common with him, because we also hope we'll enjoy the movie. He hands the microphone to Nathan Fillion who says, "We were just doing a signing at HMV and we've got something for you guys at the back who had to take the distant seats." He hands the microphone to Morena Baccarin, and he starts bounding up the stairs LIKE AN ACTION HERO! It's at that point my friends start talking, wondering what Mr Fillion is handing out and if there are enough to reach us, little realising that there is nothing in the world they can possibly say that will excuse them from the sheer wickedness of talking over the words of a movie star, at their movie. I tune them out and into Ms Baccarin, who's saying, " ...lo everyone. Thanks for coming along. I have to say, you live in a beautiful place. I hope you all enjoy the movie." Now at first I'm a little cynical and I think she's just saying beautiful to draw people's attention to the fact that she is, in point of fact, beautiful. Movie stars, always trying to draw attention to the fact that they are absolutely stunning, and she is. But then I remember that I live in Edinburgh and yes, it is an absolutely fantastic place and it's possible that just this once she's being sincere, and that's great, so I like her more, even though she is painfully beautiful. She hands the microphone over to Summer Glau, just as Mr Fillion starts bounding down the stairs LIKE AN ACTION HERO! Summer does this little shy girl, falling back slightly to step out of the spotlight, kick of the leg thing, and starts talking in this quiet little, cute as a button, voice. "Hi guys... em... thank you.. for coming to see our movie. I really hope you enjoy it... em, hugs and kisses." and from the back row, clearly and unmistakably a girl goes, "awwwww." and you can hear the tilt of her head in her voice. She's not wrong.
Now there are levels of cuteness in the world that are greater than those you find in every day life. The concept behind "Care Bears," is cute. A little girl dressed up like a princess, chewing on the star at the top of her wand, is cute. A little dog bringing back something too big for it because you threw it, is cute. Two year old kids at a wedding, holding hands and looking like they were the ones that got married, are cute. A mouse sleeping next to a cat, is cute. A one day old kitten that looks like nothing more than a ball of fluff, is cute. A baby giggling at you for the first time and you can see in its little eyes that it's really happy you're there, is cute. This didn't just leave them on the starting line, it left them all tied in chains, in cellar somewhere. I'm pretty sure that there was not a single person in the audience who would not kill their own grandparents to protect that girl at that moment. Summer Glau is now one of my most treasured people in the whole world, and I have no idea how that happened in such a short space of time... and I'm beginning to think it was some kind of set-up to get us to care deeply and unreservedly about her character in the movie we were about to see, but even cynical old me can't be all that cynical with her, because... "awwwwwww." And then the woman, who somehow now had the microphone put it on the floor and the movie stars started walking out, one after another. Bye bye Summer, see you later. Bye bye Ms Baccarin. Then Mr Fillion walked out LIKE AN ACTION HERO! And then THE JOSS was gone. And I swear I did not cry! Actually, I didn't even think about crying... because the lights started to dim.
The Universal logo came up, and then we flew through it, and a voice-over and montage started, just recapping the universe and how it got the way it is in the film. Someone from behind us handed over pieces of card, large, black, with the symbol of Serenity in the middle. We each took one and passed them forward. I don't know if there were enough to reach the front, but if there weren't then choosing to sit at the back was a good choice. There was something gold and shiny in the top corner... "It's signed." "So it is." We tilted them and made out two other signatures. Morena Baccarin, at the top, in gold. Nathan Fillion on the lower right. Summer Glau, in the middle, just under Serenity. The voice over and montage gave way to the opening scene... I watched the movie. One hundred and seventeen minutes later, or thereabouts, the lights came up, and there was applause.
Now, I am a fan of Firefly, this is no secret. I am a big fan of Joss' work and have never been disappointed by him, this is no secret. I've liked his stuff since I heard the dialogue in the first "Buffy: The Vampire Slayer" movie, this is no secret. I am a geek and often get carried away when I like thing, this is no secret. But, to be fair to everyone who might not feel the same as I do, when I write my review of "Serenity" I will try to be as objective as I can. I will try to think about what was contained in it that someone who had not even seen "Firefly" would see. Did it work on all those levels, that kind of thing. Like, was there enough explanation so you knew the world? Yes. Was there sharp dialogue? Hell yes. Was there enough information given to introduce you properly to the characters and their personalities? Yes. Was there action? Yes. Did you feel that the heroes were ever in real danger? Yes. Was there emotional drama to heighten the comedy and action? Yes. That kind of thing... so, here comes my review of "Serenity."
"Serenity." Director & Writer, Joss Whedon. Starring: Nathan Fillion, Summer Glau, Alan Tudyk, Sean Maher, Gina Torres, Morena Baccarin, Jewel Staite, Ron Glass, Chiwetel Ejiofor and Adam Baldwin. Running Time, 117 mins, approx.
"OH FUCK YEAH!"
And there you have it.
( I seem to suck at writing reviews, but here it is anyway. I Don't know why I put it in this "click me" thing because there aren't really any spoilers at all. )
We exited the cinema, vowing, to a man, to see it again when it opens. There must be quite a bit of stuff we missed through laughing. Outside in the now somewhat chilly air, people went off their separate ways. Havron and I decided that the pub next door had not disappeared while we were in the cinema, so we went in and we... beer, sweet sweet, beer... drank until he had to run off for his last train. I walked home carrying my signed, mini-poster card thing. So, by now you're thinking the Universe loves me to pieces. Well let me say this, the very next day I went into town to pick up my comics and I looked up from my book at one point and who should I see but my absolute favourite male, British, younger than me, TV presenter in the whole world, Simon Amstell.
When I got home I read my comics and I looked out my window and took a picture of a cloud that looks weirdly super-imposed.

Then I took my dog out and here's a picture of a fucking rainbow!

Make of all that what you will.
Now, I have to be off, because it turns out my air rifle is actually a plasma cannon.
.Feeling: SERENITY THEN!!!! Hearing: Giggle.
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