Thursday, June 16, 2011

Life is all Swings and Roundabouts. Driven by aliens.

The lovely Dancing Girl and I ventured out into the cold dark Dunedin night, this evening, to see Super 8.. I didn't really have expectations, apart for a minor propensity of goodwill towards it, and not any real knowledge of the plot. I hadn't heard much feedback about it, and had read no reviews, but am pleased to report:




Goooooood movie. The kids were absolutely brilliant, the story is fast moving but you still experience depth of character/s, and funny bits are peppered throughout like sprinkles on that lemon cupcake in the cafe on the corner you have been eyeing up all week (and you're fairly sure they're made fresh each day right?!)

And you certainly get a good, unexpected, shove-your-elbow-into-the-ribs-next-door thrill every so often.

So- good movie for all the reasons a movie should be good for, and not the usual fucked up ones which I tend to have a certain predilection for.

It'll be interesting to have a read of what the critics are saying, not that it really matters, but go see it: totes worth it bro.

(and yes, a minor planetoid just blew up somewhere in the universe as a result of my ruthless butchering of the English language.)


In other news, to match the destruction of the planetoid, the eighth sign of the apocalypse has occurred- I came home, after leaving Trouble in the lounge, 'cause I felt so mean tying him up out in the cold; and nothing was chewed, mauled, dragged about, sans stuffing, licked or out of place at all. I might take him to the vet tomorrow to get checked out. The poor dear must be frightfully sick.


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