Residence Evil

Okay, that was a pretty lame title, but I've had very little sleep over the last week and I couldn't really think of anything better. From friday through to sunday, I've had three van days, where me and my dad and a whole bunch of furniture have resided solidly in a van, with some service stations in between.

So, with the flat in newbury now completely empty of all furniture, with some of it driven all the way up to Scotland and then the rest of it down here, with some in storage and some in my living room corner... I am no logner an official resident of newbury. That feels like a big deal to me, for some reason.

I've resided in newbury since I was about six months old, I believe. My parents moved from swindon when I was at that age and I've lived there ever since. Even when I went to university in bedford and now down in southampton, I was still technically on a housing list in newbury somewhere. That's twenty five years of my life in that town and now... now I have no official residence down there anymore. I am free of it, I am now a 'sotonian' (although I don't care for that term, I think it should be 'southamptonite'). There is a chance I'll return there if this Vodafone Graduate Scheme works out of me, but for the moment, I'm no longer technically associated with newbury anymore.

Kinda sad.

Anyway, I've been having a weird time of it as it is, what with fresh bailiff notices, missing housemate keys and now plans for the new kitchen taking form in various minds... it's all just getting on top of me a little. I need to lie down and watch some Supernatural in my pyjamas. Yes, that's a plan.

PRINCE OF PERSIA.

Now... this was a film I wasn't fussed about seeing, but for some reason cropped up and seemed like a half decent idea the day after Robin Hood last month. So the gorup saddled up and headed down to view the swords and sandels. This is an adaptation of 'Sands of Time', the most popular Prince of Persia game and features it's powerful theme and story. The result?

A resounding 'meh'.

Don't get me wrong, it's pretty, it's flashy, there are some great action sequences... but there's just not enough meat on the bones of the story, it's all style and not much substence

Some of the acting was pretty good, Gyllenhall was okay but nothing special, Ben Kingsley is always a pleasure to watch and Richard Coyle was a genuine surprise to see. Molina, wha-hey.

Of course, the latest talentless vacuum of personality that every utterly thick male on the planet thinks is hot, Gemma Arteton, was about as convincing in her performance as I was at being an interested memeber of the audiance. It's bloody Megan Fox syndrome all over again. She's not hot, she's just well-formed. Actual hotness requires a glint in the eye symbolising life and more commonly known as a 'soul', which I'm not convinced either of these 'women' possess.

The problem I had with this movie was that it felt entirely like a Jerry Bruckheimer movie... which is playing it safe while trying to make it look like it wasn't. That's what Bruckheimer does, he plays it safe, hence why he could probably by a piece of Denmark if he wanted to.

The order of Assassins were pretty poor, the script felt like it had been changed halfway through in order to make a different person into the bad guy and there most certainly wasn't enough of the old runny-jumpy-climby. It was a visually good movie, but that was about it. Enough said.

Next Time: BROOKLYN'S FINEST