The Summer Expanse

The great rearing expanse of summer stretches out before us, five months where there are no classes, no screenings, no seminars and no assignments. It's a little disheartening, but I'll get over it. I'm still looking forward to going back, but that'll be a while, got to settle myself into the long haul of probably not being able to find a job and do some serious slacking. I also have my kitchen to do and find a new housemate.

Saw my belov'd Justine the other day, who still shows enough common sense to not want to sleep with me, clever girl. I'm now back in newbury for about a week, working and slacking in equal measure. That's about it, really, nothing to report apart from you're now about to experiance the shortest ever movie review that I've ever put to keyboard. I hope you enjoy it, I know that Matt will disagree with my thoughts.

CLASH OF THE TITANS.

UTTER.
SHIT.

Next week: How To Train Your Dragon.



























Okay, I'm not that unprofessional (not that I am a professional), I'll talk about the actual movie. It is utter shit, there are no redeeming features and it made me want to gouge my own eyes out, but I'll talk about it, a little.

We follow the adventures of Perseus played by the supremely unlikeable Sam Worthington (a man who can stand next to Keanu Reeves and look wooden) as he sets out on his quest to Damn The Gods and then utterly go back on it later.

The plot is about as interesting as my last sneeze and over just as quickly. The film is mercifully short, the effects look impressive if you don't see it in waste-of-time-D but are nothing compared to the claymation of the 80's.

Am I suffering from nostalgia-vision there? I frickin' loved Clash of 81' and I still like it to this day, mainly because it didn't take itself seriously, whereas this movie tries to. Ralph Fiennes Gollum-like portrayal of Hades is embarrasingly cringe-worthy, Liam Neeson phoned it in, Pete Postlethwaite would have been better suited staying at home and finding a real movie to be in and Gemma Arteton was so utterly forgettable that I had to check on iMDb on how to spell her name wrong.

So no, nostalgia aside, this is a BAD, BAD film. Do not see it, you will not regret it if you don't. Trust me on that. It's about as rewarding as having part of your childhood trampled on someone that isn't Michael Bay (for a change).