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I actually saw Star Trek: into Darkness a few weeks ago now. It was a slow Sunday afternoon, the she-David was hunched over her sewing machine and I wasn't doing much else so I took myself off to the cinema to see JJ Abram's second take on the franchise. I really liked the 2008 reboot. Yeah, the plot made no sense whatsoever - in fact it was a direct insult to the intelligence of everyone watching - but Abrams and his team, like Joss Whedon, write great ensemble pieces. The dialogue was sharp and every major cast member had their moment in the spotlight; for all the plot weaknesses it was fun, and I'll accept a lot in the name of fun.
Anyway, unlike the last outing this time I sat through the feature presentation with a face like a well-smacked bum and walked out in a pretty sour mood. As I headed back home across the park I found myself musing that the first half of the film made me think it was going somewhere interesting, the next quarter made me realise that it wasn't, and the last quarter made it perfectly clear it wasn't going anywhere at all. You see -
At that moment a small child, a little girl of about six or so, ran past me carrying an entirely rubbish home made kite constructed of a toilet roll tube, some string, and a sheet of stiff card. I watched her run past vainly trying to get the air to catch her construction and make it fly, and then she turned round and ran back before noticing I was watching. She stopped running and came over. "My kite won't fly", she said.
I dropped to the grass. "So it won't. Let's have a look", I said.
It was a rubbish kite. The sort of thing a six year old would make in the absence of any help whatsoever from an adult, you might think, and I was mildly surprised that whoever owned the child was prepared to let her hang out with a random popcorn-smeared fat bloke in the park without comment. She appeared to belong to a group of people sat on a rug a short distance away swigging wine and talking loudly in that 'we're really important and our conversation is really interesting so you should all listen' sort of way, but they didn't appear much fussed by my appearance so I just got on with it. I showed her how the string should have multiple points of contact with the card to hold it steady against air pressure and after a few goes we got it fixed up so it would - sort of - catch the air as she ran. Then I patted her on the head and went on my way. I'd really enjoyed myself.
As I started thinking about Star Trek again, I realised that my review had pretty much written itself. Hollywood had spent several hundred million dollars on a slam-bang summer blockbuster, and twenty minutes helping a small child make a kite had been significantly more interesting, enjoyable and rewarding. Hollywood, you suck.
So that's my advice. If you haven't seen Into Darkness yet, don't bother. It's a derivative retread of Wrath of Khan (Spoiler Alert. Oh, too late). Instead, acquire yourself a small child - they're easily available, most parents are only too pleased to get shot of them for half an hour - and teach it to make something. You'll get much, much more out of it and you'll save money on tickets and popcorn too.
Anyway, unlike the last outing this time I sat through the feature presentation with a face like a well-smacked bum and walked out in a pretty sour mood. As I headed back home across the park I found myself musing that the first half of the film made me think it was going somewhere interesting, the next quarter made me realise that it wasn't, and the last quarter made it perfectly clear it wasn't going anywhere at all. You see -
At that moment a small child, a little girl of about six or so, ran past me carrying an entirely rubbish home made kite constructed of a toilet roll tube, some string, and a sheet of stiff card. I watched her run past vainly trying to get the air to catch her construction and make it fly, and then she turned round and ran back before noticing I was watching. She stopped running and came over. "My kite won't fly", she said.
I dropped to the grass. "So it won't. Let's have a look", I said.
It was a rubbish kite. The sort of thing a six year old would make in the absence of any help whatsoever from an adult, you might think, and I was mildly surprised that whoever owned the child was prepared to let her hang out with a random popcorn-smeared fat bloke in the park without comment. She appeared to belong to a group of people sat on a rug a short distance away swigging wine and talking loudly in that 'we're really important and our conversation is really interesting so you should all listen' sort of way, but they didn't appear much fussed by my appearance so I just got on with it. I showed her how the string should have multiple points of contact with the card to hold it steady against air pressure and after a few goes we got it fixed up so it would - sort of - catch the air as she ran. Then I patted her on the head and went on my way. I'd really enjoyed myself.
As I started thinking about Star Trek again, I realised that my review had pretty much written itself. Hollywood had spent several hundred million dollars on a slam-bang summer blockbuster, and twenty minutes helping a small child make a kite had been significantly more interesting, enjoyable and rewarding. Hollywood, you suck.
So that's my advice. If you haven't seen Into Darkness yet, don't bother. It's a derivative retread of Wrath of Khan (Spoiler Alert. Oh, too late). Instead, acquire yourself a small child - they're easily available, most parents are only too pleased to get shot of them for half an hour - and teach it to make something. You'll get much, much more out of it and you'll save money on tickets and popcorn too.
