Adverts That Need to be Stabbed in The Eyes

Adverts today have become a big fucking load. Of what? The worst things. Shit probably. But they're just awful, they've gotten worse, louder and, yes, more insulting to us, the viewer. Thank God for the BBC - even if the show is terrible, there are no moronic adverts trying to manipulate our brains. Here is a very imporant list of the all the very worst adverts on TV at the moment:-

Confused.Com:

I always, always mute the Confused.com advert. It used to be a pretty cheap, relatively unoffensive man or woman on a white background who used to explain how confused they were about insurance. Fair enough.
Suddenly it seems that the Confused.com mascot has come to life and that the mascot was, despite its initial appearance, a woman. And...going by this hair, possibly a burn victim:



This loud-mouthed, burn victim is currently in an advert I can't bare, where she launches meaningfully into a rendition, (or should that be murder), of "Somebody To Love" by Queen. A bunch of other other big smiley wankers start appearing behind her too and I think what really pissed me off, is the song, combined with all these characters looking really fucking happy about comparing their insurance. It makes me angry. It's everything wrong with the world, where "Somebody to Love" can be used for something as shallow as sales, marketing and insurance. Go fuck yourself Confused.com.

Vodaphone Bees:

Bees don't use telephones. There, that's already a great point. So what are we to you Vodaphone? Nothing but industrious little bees working for your hive of a phone empire. Yes, we are now officially insects to all the big corporations.
Look at the posters around right now and you'll notice that the bees are always on the phone, sure, phone company, got it - but sometimes, the bees have TWO phones, because they have FOUR arms. FOUR ARMS, does not equal, TWO PHONES, you could have TEN arms and still only need ONE phone. But no, we're supposed to buy more phones.



Ok, second, and what I hate most is that the bees are always leading these aspirational lives that we're supposed to somehow relate to or be able to achieve, if only we would get on the Vodaphone network. Observe properly and you'll notice that they're always carrying bags and bags of shopping or living a a nice middle-class, sub-urban lifestyle; "I watch the match on Saturdays, because as well as being a bee, I'm a graphic desinger with disposal income!". They say that bees are dying out - no, they're just better than us now.
And all this hatred is quite apart from the FUCKING BEE PUNS WE GET IN EVERY FUCKING ADVERT...ahem...also, it's actually VodaFone. I don't care.

The Ladders:

What is it? Oh you don't know. You will have seen it but it probably washed right over you. Here's the scene. Two posh wankers are playing tennis. Then, suddenly, to the 'protagonists' horror, the great, unwashed, masses come swarming down onto the court, all shirtless and stupid. And then a smug voice comes on over the top of it all.


"If you think about...this is a lot like looking for a 50K plus job!"

NO it isn't, FUCK off. It's nothing like that, because we don't all play fucking tennis at the weekends, you rich, middle-class fuck heads. Its a well known fact that if you earn 50k, you're too busy on your iPad to even be watching tv anyway. And it's called TheLadders.co.uk - indicating upward mobility I suppose. Oh good job lads, but I think you'll find that the common ladder is also a symbol of a manual labour job - did you know that their salary comes by the hour...I know, I know, you're right, someone should start a charity. Good luck in your application anyway, cunt.

The Animated Andrex Puppy:

Who the fuck does that newly animated puppy think he is? He's not cute anymore, he's just frightening...

HOW ARE YOU HOLDING THAT THING WITHOUT THUMBS YOU FREAKISH ABOMINATION!?

...and I don't get it...it looks like they live in a human world...I mean it doesn't seem to have been designed by dogs, it looks exactly like "our world" - yet somehow, thanks to Andrex apparently, dogs have clearly become the dominant species in this universe. I always thought they'd need thumbs to do that; turns out that all they needed was quilted toilet paper.
What I hate about this one is all the things this dog does. It's too, fucking, cute - like, over the top cute that then passes the line and goes into creepy. Everything falls on his head, everything gets nudged gently into place - and his fucking bitch (haha) of a girlfriend - she's so fucking kooky, pulling faces at the puppy/school-children on her way home. The whole thing is just sickening. And I just don't get it - how does it advertise toilet paper at all!? We get this horrible Twilight Zone episode where dogs rule the planet, but where young, money rich couples with town houses are still totally aspirational and that all boils down to toilet paper?
The only way I see it working is that the advert was supposed to make me vomit everywhere and then I think, "God I wish I had some thick toilet paper to clean this up".

ALSO - animating babies or animals is symptomatic of humanities arrogance. No, shut up, it is. Right, because we think we're so fucking smart now, that we're so advanced, that we can animate things so well now, that our animations are good enough to pass close enough to being the real thing on TV...but they're not...we're not...it looks shit ok? Fuck off Andrex. What happened to that real puppy when it was put out of work by the animated one eh? That's right; it, got, shot.

The 10 O'Clock Dive

The 10 O'Clock Live sits in the corner looking drastic, smoking and curling it's unkempt hair; it's in therapy.
"I just don't know who I am doc...sometimes I have this real desire to squeeze out these heavily scripted jokes...you know, satirical stuff, a little un-PC in places...but other times *it takes a drag of its cigarette* other times I think it's time to buck up my ideas and start interviewing politicians and talking about...you know, issues...not with any real depth or interest, but I do it in a sort of tokenistic sort of way....oh Doctor, it's all a facade *it grabs the doctors collar* tell me Doctor, WHO AM I!?"

"Who Am I" - the scream echoes up and down the halls of TV land. Other programmes look up in horror. No one wants to be that guy; the show that falls in between two stalls...hard.

On paper, this show looked absolutely fan-bloody-tastic. To the extent that I almost cancelled my trip to America so that I didn't miss the debut. Charlie Brooker, David Mitchel, Jimmy Carr, Lauren Lav..ergne? Yeah. What a line-up! Glasto eat your heart out, We've got insight, intelligence, wit AND someone that's down with the kids, all in one politically charged show.
The problems began though, right there. Politically charged show? I only say that from watching the damn thing. It marketed itself as a sort satirical take on the news, a send up of news reporting in general. Instead when I came to watch it, what I got was Newsround for the Hollyoaks generation.

Remember, us late 80s children, my generation, are the ones who set out with Newsround, right? They've realised that we have grown up and now they're back at it and cramming THE-WORLD-AROUND-YOU-FOR-DUMMIES down our throat again. Please, no, I can't breath, gaaargh *gorp, choke, dead*.
Seeing the four presenters sit round a table and discuss "issues" of government policing, or budget cuts, etc, is upsetting. I like these tv personalities, but they are being forced to act like all the active wankers at university that I wanted to stab in the eyes, the ones at Uni who take up real life issues that only they care about. It doesn't effect you, but they so adamantly pursue juuuusstiiiice that you want to become an anarchist and burn down the senate building just to spite them. Equally, I want to burn down the channel four executives who felt that they were hip and in touch enough to have found the legendary, hidden path to "appealing television for the fabled 20-25 year olds"

FAIL. EPIC. FUCKING. FAIL. You can't make a flying monkey just by stapling a pigeon to its back and you can't put in a couple of comedians and have them try and talk politics, whilst also try and be funny. The result is like water and oil, a heavily, heavily scripted production whose comedic and political sections sit very awkwardly next to each other over the course of a very long, disjointed hour.
The result is that no one quite enjoys the programme enough to really want to tune in again.

Jimmy Carr can do a bit of one-liner stand-up, sure, but contributes very little to the political discussions. Charlie Brooker looks like he wrote the damn thing and is having to watch everyone ruin his work. David Mitchell is a witty, commentator and referee but isn't quite a stand-up and suits other things more than a channel four youth-fest with fellow tv personalities. And Lauren Lavergne, sure, has youth-appeal and is a fine presenter, but when handed the detailed script of a section of..aha...satirical stand-up, she recited it like an auto-cue. In fact, in fairness, they all did. None of them can read from an auto-cue without adopting a sort of lazy eye.

In the end, I got bored. This is a greedy programme by Channel 4. Though broadly they are going for youth (just look at the hideous, vomit-worthy crowad of gel haired, shirt wearing, toss-faces in the crowd, all guffawing at crude jokes and booing & applauding as predictably as an X-Factor audience) overall this show is reaching for too broad of a demographic. As such, it's hard for them to keep anyones interest. I was geared up for entertainment when I sat down to watch this and I enjoyed the alternative election night, because then it has relevance...because there was an election...now it feels like GCSE-Bitesize came along to tell me about small businessman who aren't able to wear comfortable shoes in the Middle-East...by which I mean it feels irrelevant and dumb and as such it lost my interest very quickly.

Part of my annoyance about that is because on paper it should be a fantastic show. But it's not. It's the same reason Man City won't win the premiership. On paper it looks great, but it just doesn't gel. With all that money and talent, putting it together by selecting all the best players was just lazy and inorganic and the results showed that.

I'll probably still watch it though. There's not much else on afterall! DAMN THE TELEVISION TO HELL!

Harry Potter and the Magical Mystery Tour of Britain!

Six hours later I emerged from screen 8, blinking in the light. That's six hours I spent looking around a cinema to see if anyone else looked as unimpressed as I did. I was, of course, sitting in the new Harry Potter film, entitled, 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1', or as I like to call it 'Harry Potter and the Magical Mystery Tour of Britain'.

Unfortunately this was only part one of the final film, so I am now obligated to see the second. Kudos JK, have some more money. Harry Potter part one seems to be an advertisement for the British Tourist Board and National Heritage. Off they'd go, woosh, another area of outstanding national beauty, woosh, oh and another. I've never seen these places! I notice that they never once thought to hide in Margate.
Oh and that fucking tent. I was sick of the site of the fucking thing. A good hour and a half of the new HP film is not needed, because it features Harry and Hermione dragging the same bloody MAGIC tent around from place to place and going, "phew, aren't times difficult" - but hey, we have a magic tent and a magic bag with literally everything in it. At one point Hermione suggested that she and Harry stay out in the wilderness, with the tent, with the bag, and grow old together. I almost screamed at the suggestion, partly because I could physically feel myself getting older as the film went on, partly because it didn't seem beyond the film that we would have to watch that happen. Still, that tent was one prop worth its weight in gold. It was a sound investment and the prop man on Harry Potter should be praised.

So apart from these sweeping views of British landscapes, a cinematic technique that was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to ripping off Lord of the Rings, there were a few other moments in the film...though, predictably, they were stupid. The film began well but lost momentum after ten minutes. After seeing the scene with Death Eaters & Snape and the scene where everyone turns into Harry, it became rubbish.

For a start, the film is lacking in detail: "Oh, hi, we're back. Hm? Oh yeah, that's right, I'll tell everyone - guys, just to let you know Mad Eye Moody has died so I wouldn't bother to look out for h...what? Mad Eye...Mad Eye Moody. Squiggly eye with...oh nevermind, but, let's just all be aware; he's dead. He died, off camera so. Don't expect to see him again, that's all". The HP films are notorious for glazing over such details, but here it's abysmal.
Hey wait, don't the kids still go to school? I swear a school was involved once. Something about witchcraft and wizardry? Yep. Ok, let's see it. Uuum. OH HEY, LOOK, A TRAIN! Why would there be a train if there wasn't a school? That PROVES it, those students must be going somewhere! Yes, but I wouldn't mind seeing a potions lesson, or a Quidditch match or - ["LOOK; ok? The train means that they're going to school, and the school is out there somewhere, but that's not what it's about anymore, it's waaaaay bigger and more important than that now! No Hogwarts for you"!]

Hogwarts. Remember Hogwarts? That's good, because Harry Potter doesn't. Not a mention of the bloody place. It's not fun anymore! There, I said it. I mentioned Quidditch. I'd have killed for a game of Quidditch in this film. Or even a cauldron blowing up in Ron's face or something, ANYTHING that suggested I was in the world of Harry Potter and not, instead, a childrens second-rate good vs. evil Lord of the Rings rip off.
What happened everyone? Remember when it used to be enjoyable watching a Harry Potter film? Remember when you used to crack a smile while you watched it? There'd be some mild peril, they break some rules, Harry steps up to a challenge, he and his friends defeat the threat...and then they'd all sit down to a big feast and Dumbledore (god rest his soul) would go "FIFTY points to Gryfindor!" and everyone would cheer and they'd all lift up the house cup, and go yeeeah!
Here instead we have Harry weeping into the face of a bloodied up house-elf with parkinsons and digging a shallow grave for him in Cornwall; Jesus. Wingardium leviosa!

The thing that really let's this rubbish down though is simple and it's hardly the films fault really. J.K.Rowling...how are you even published? This is why I stopped reading your books. I read Bukowski now man.
While the film can be held responsible for the ridiculously uninformed, poorly crafted scenes that are always meant to mean a lot more (romance with Ginny spanning many, many pages - yeah he zips up a dress and...we'll just take it as given that there's some sort of romance there, good, that's been alluded to, moving on...) Ahem, anyway, the director can not be held to ransom for Rowling's blatant cheating.

Yes, cheating. It's quite clear that she never, ever planned on writing these awful epic titles later in the series. The really huge books where it all becomes a serious battle between good and evil. Welcome to Harry Potter, where everything is something! We're going to take a look back at all the things you used to enjoy and we're going to tell you what they really were!
Harry's invisibility cloak was a seemingly innocent, inventive magical device for sneaking around school. OH-HO, not so fast, in fact Harry's cloak was a powerful, world-ending artifact the whole time! And look at this, Harry's glasses are a horcrux into another dimension where Dumbledore is alive as a phoenix and gives Harry the legendary fez of invulnerability which he must use to defeat Voldermort's postman, thus cutting the dark lord off from bills and magazine subscriptions of everykind kinds! Have at you brute! Or, whatever is convenient to J.K.Rowling's story at the time. Honestly, it's as bad as Sabrina the Teenage Witch! Sorry, that's not fair really. Sabrina was pretty good.
Douglas Adams did a lot of mad stuff with Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy but he obeyed the logical laws of the universe he created. The babel fish is convenient, but was explained and operated within an established world of Adam's creation. Rowling set up some rules in about three books, became a too powerful author, refused her book to be edited, and started blowing apart her own world, twisting it into some half-baked epic of two-part film sized proportions. Secret codes, mystical swords, old legends, one ring to rule them all and in the darkness bind them...oh, sorry...I get those two mixed up sometimes because one of them ripped off the other one. Dementor? More like Black Riders mate.

ALSO, how the fucking hell do Harry, Ron and Hermione get caught by a man impersonating Johnny Depp but then manage to defeat several powerful dark wizards at a leisurely stroll? It's ridiculous! I couldn't believe people were buying it. Another thing; "Shit, how do we get out of here"! said Ron. "Don't worry", said J.K.Rowling, who suddenly decided that she could draw on some old forgotten character, say, Dobby the house-elf, and decide that he could teleport everyone out of the impenetrable fortress. Good stuff. Good, good stuff.

Still, as ever, the Harry Potter franchise gave us another nice example of British actors...although there are so many of them now that they each get 5 minutes screen time at most before another lot come in. There were more cameos here than an E4 film countdown. Did you see the guy from Gavin & Stacey? That was cool.

So, in short, Harry Potter has lost the magic. And with that magic, it has lost its charm. No longer does anyone slip into the magical world via a telephone box, no longer do we get to see clever uses for post-boxes and things, oh no, now we get an intense ride of poor decisions and a poorly crafted plot that makes the DaVinci Code look plausible.

Meanwhile, this year at Hogwarts, one of the girls in Ravenclaw found a magic shoe that released a dragon into the Quidditch cup final, but it was defeated through some clever magic and dynamic broom flying and she won 50 points for Ravenclaw and they won the house cup. Ah, much better.

A distinct 5.5/10
Still...it was better than Inception.

Passing the Torch; Film 2010

Claudia Winkleman was handed the hefty mantle of continuing Jonathan Ross' legacy on Film 2010 and made her debut a month ago now. I've watched about three of the four now aired and...look, it was always going to be hard to follow in the steps of Jonathan Ross...but first, let's take a look at the new structure of the show.

Film 2010 (or whatever year was featured in the title) was always a very well balanced programme. It was both easy to watch and informative, it made incisive and intelligent points without being inaccessible (like, say, The Culture Show might be to certain people). It was a BBC big hitter, by which I mean it had a wide audience, appealing to a variety of people types. And, naturally, rather than try and replicate the show exactly, some changes have been made to the format of the show - but importantly the show's target demographic seems to have shifted, or at least that's the only explanation I can think of that explains the awful new tone of what used to be a fairly regular event in my week.

Apparently , rather than giving a fair, detailed and broad review of new films, Film 2010 has opted for a more select audience it seems. The word 'broad' is fairly key here. So often used as a fairly negative word, 'broad' is usually used alongside undeserved bedfellows like 'dumbing down', 'mass appeal' and plain 'stupid. Broad doesn't necessarily have to mean X-Factor. I'm mentioning this because it seems that Film 2010 has chosen to make itself less broad and to develop a somewhat different dynamic to itself.

For me, and fuck off I'm usually right about this stuff, Film 2010 has degenerated into a pretentious, indie hipster, film student, overly opinionated, nightmare [with due respect to reading film students].
The beginning of every review seems to begin with a flurry of name dropping, old 'classic' film references and the mention of technicalities, just so that none of us are in any doubt that Claudia Winkleman and her sidekick Dobby [name unknown] know what they are fucking talking about - "let's get one thing straight here guys, I've seen this film, this film and this film, one of them was in black and white and I know the work of this direcotr who made a film that not many people have seen but I have because I fucking know film" - thanks Claudia, we get it, but I presumed you knew about film by virtue of your hosting this programme so let's skip the pretentious bullshit from now on eh? It's exhausting.
Winkleman can't help but proceed everything with "For me" and "I've always" and "His early work" - the sorts of phrases that tell you that your order of the big pile of crap is on its way in just a sentence time. This isn't so bad you say, but she literally barks all of these comments at this bloke Dobby [name unknown], who is just as bad as her really and returns her service with some film opinions that are equally high art, high literature and so richly full of themselves that to consume one as food would be to give yourself diabetes of the idiot gland. Shut up, it's a real condition.

My point is, this show is for everyone. It's on BBC 1 for fuck sake. But it's like they go out of their way to prove what an exclusive club it is. At the beginning it ought to play the piano music, the title should come up with Film 2010 and then Claudia Winkleman's head should pop up and go "keep up if you can stupid" at which point her brain should explode, revealing an excess of film tape. GOD SHE KNOWS SO MUCH ABOUT FILM!!

There are strong overtones of hipster-ness in the show, which is probably why I'm reacting so furiously towards it. Anything trying to be anything and it's not for me. I mean, FOR ME Film2010 would be better with Jonathan Ross, I'VE ALWAYS liked Film2010's EARLIER WORK. Oh look at that, I'm a wanker as well. But then I haven't ruined a perfectly good platform for film review by rendering it some pompous excuse for these two presenters to vomit up their conceited yet mysteriously repetitive views, not on the film itself, but on film as a medium, man. It's the way Winkleman and Dobby both talk to each other in argumentative way, fully believing that their opinions on film define their very being. And that's just pathetic.
Come back Jonathan Ross, you gave a well rounded, accurate opinion on film and didn't have to roll out the obscure references and pro-subtitle stance to prove just how much passion you had for film. As such, I found you both likeable and believable. Film 2010 and Claudia Winkleman are neither of those things.

Whatchyou Talkin' About Andrew Neil?

The less you have to do, the more unemployed or studenty you are, the more you will encounter Andrew Neil on television. There is a positive correlation between the two. The veteran presenter features on both The Daily Politics and The Week, usually positioned cautiously into a sort of velvet, purple background.

Andrew Neil is frequently a perceptive and intelligent political commentator and interviewer; a professor of television, who seems an authority to us, the masses who don't understand a bloody thing about politics we don't.

Unfortunately, Professor Neil frequently lets himself down with his eccentricities. During his broadcasts he can launch himself from one piece of particularly strong journalism, before throwing himself violently into a surreal commentary of his own design, like, "but can you deny the cuts hit the poorest hardest? Anyway, moving on, and the monkey pheasant doesn't wear a hat in the morning, am I right?" *smirk smirk smirk*...a lot of people don't understand politics as it is, ok, and so they're going to be pretty fucking puzzled by all this I can tell you.

But he doesn't deliver it with the required volume of a red nosed eccentric, but does it with a creepy intimacy.
"There now, that's ALL the politics done. Come in close. A little closer now, come on, don't be shy! Have you ever wondered, WHY GEORGE Osborne, looks into the little nutshell house, that paint's the eyes of the moose God yellow - I know you do, yes, you and I are well aware of the candy land that exists on the moon [he whispers quietly to you the viewer, until you snap back into reality] - NOW WE GO, to Westminster, where I understand Mr. Clegg is ready to address the cabinet...and, as we all know, pearls make the girl" *smirk smirk smirk, I've just made a joke he says*

...which apparently is all a big wink and a nudge to us the viewer, but we literally have no idea why, because he is the only one involved in this weird in-joke between presenter and viewer. Watching Andrew Neil on the Daily Politics leaves you reeling; brocolli creates anarchy in March? Really? I thought we were talking about budget cuts, how curious, still, he is a venerated authority on political broadcasting. I guess politics is just too complex for our mere human minds.

He's not senile yet, but the problem is that when Andrew Neil does finally descend into lunacy over the next few years, no one is going to notice until it's too late and he's up on the sofa wearing little red pants and thrusting his groin into the faces of some of his bewildered guests, who even now are forced to bend to his whims and play ridiculous politics games with like...coloured balls and...soft parody that act as hideous innacurate satirical questionnaires on public opinion...God it's awful. I'm going to watch cartoons now, it makes so much more sense.

ASK RHOD GILBERT (if you can shout loud enough)

HELLO AND WELCOME TO ASK RHOD GILBERT, THIS NEXT ONE IS FROM CHARLES MEYRICK AND HE ASKS:

“Rhod Gilbert, is there any point in the show, or indeed your life, when you are not furiously shouting?”

NO CHARLIE, THERE ISN’T, he would reply, although this would all suggest that ‘Ask Rhod Gilbert’ on BBC1 actually began at any point during it’s half hour slot. It does, of course, eventually kick-off, but only after literally ten minutes. Whilst a panel show traditionally begins with neat introductions and a concise joke, Rhod Gilbert first launches into a bit on 'menus' – a bit where he predictably shouts and repeats the joke five times, using the word lasagne no less than twelve times. Count it. I dare you. It's well observed, but impossibly beaten to death. Then revived. Then killed.

Once this is taken care of and the viewer has had time to turn the televisions volume down to 1, in order to compensate for his twelve-packs-a-day lion roar, there is then time to introduce the entirely annonymous, completely unrecognisable panel. A regular is “Greg Davies”. Who the hell is that? Don’t worry, it’s the headmaster from the Inbetweeners, a seemingly funny guy but who actually, when you get down to it, is not without a good script in his hands. There’s also Lloyd. Presumably he is also a comedian, but opts for the role of bookend on this panel of four...there are no teams, it’s just a panel of four...that’s too many surely for one team? Dear Rhod Gilbert, am I watching Family Fortunes?
The other two are just people you really will not have heard of...'joining Greg & Lloyd today is Romanian bronze medallist Ezra Labondt and south east todays transport correspondant Paul Siegert – geezuz. H. Crisps, is this the recession in it’s full effect? I’ll just watch old QI repeats on Dave thank you very much.

The guests aren’t done there. Then we get a two minute introduction on another celebrity. Probably a chef or something. He gets a little computer to 'answer' Rhod's questions, but otherwise has a com-pletely irrelevant role in the...game? Is this a game? There’s no competitive element because there are no teams and in fact, literally no point to the programme whatsoever, unless consuming time counts as a purpose now; if it does, this programme is the equivalent to Job Centre Plus (hiii-ooh!).

Rhod delivers a number of tame yet volumess jokes which receive a luke-warm response from the studio audience...a studio...audience...these are the same sort of people who actually take the time out to go and see X-factor. The colour yellow probably makes them laugh. The same audience get to ‘Ask Rhod’ a question. They’re not great at generating comedy, as any improv comedian probably knows, and they come up with desperately surreal things about guacamole and swimming pools. In defence, this is because they have no brief in this painfully aimless show – the whole thing is like a hospital patient who has escaped onto the Yorkshire downs with concussion. It’s a living nightmare.

This whole thing really belongs on Five. It screeeams Five. No one contributes anything, its just starts off as being loud and garish and finally ends with mild disappointment. It's probably what supporting Manchester City feels like.
This was half an hour of boring people, sitting around a boring dinner table and exchanging dull stories over a store bought lasagne. I don’t want to watch that. I can live that if I want to.

Towards the end there was a 'you’ve been framed-esque' video of a dog jumping into a wall...in response, we receive a story about waking up in a tent. Finally the poor celebrity chef charged with a computer of information comes in with some Wikipedia information and a buzzer goes off. Is that the end? I don't know. The word "answer" comes up but I don't seem to have any.

But the show doesn’t end. Dear government...if you’re making cuts, please start with this piece of television and everyone responsible for comissioning it. It’s just not necessary, the show has no point except to slowly sap your energy, like a hideous, talentless poision or a feminist.

OH, and it all ends with a sketch. Well, I say sketch, it’s like the end bit of Shooting Stars meets I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here; not a winning combination. In the episode that I observed, a guy had to eat a chille and then got yoghurt shoved in his mouth with a spoon, messily. Then some ice-cream. Then water was thrown at him. Then he got an ice machine in his face. It was like Looney Toons, only with none of the intellect. Or Fun House, without the...sexy twins? In fact, any comparison would give the show too much credit.

Finally Rhod ends the show by saying “I’M RHOD GILBERT AND YOU CAN ASK ME, LITERALLY, ANYTHING...”. Dear Rhod Gilbert, will you please, never do anything again, ever. Thanks.

Inception the Cinema Infection

Inception is a film that is much cleverer than it really is. This was the only thing I could relate to in the entire four billion hours it felt like I spent watching the fucking thing.

Alright, yes, Leo Didlidi Caprio is a good actor - for example he can do intense...and...also...intense...and sometimes he also plays really intense characters and, er, oh..

I'm not even going to say spoiler alert at any point in this interview because if you can't see how obvious the film is when you innevitably go along to watch it then you are stupid.

Several times over it tries to make you think something else, but it is essentially equivalent to watching Dick Dastardly turn road signs around in Wacky Races - every times its painfully obvious what dream they're jumping into or who exactly is asleep or whatever. And the stale old trick of putting the end of the film at the beginning didn't sodding fool anyone (or rather it did, but shouldn't have). Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind did the same thing. It was obvious from the start too!
Oh and then Inception, in what is a really very desperate attempt to bloody mistify the audience, ends with a stupid little spinning doo-hickey that Leo uses to see if he is in a dream or not, BUT, aaah, aaah, oooh, AAAH - DARGH, oh no, the film has cut to credits and I'll literally NEVER know if it stopped spinning or not! So many questions! Was he out of the dream? Was he ever in a dream? WAS HE EVER OUT OF THE DREAM? If only I cared enough, because Inception is a long fucking film and my bladder has exploded all over the aisle.

Inception is like the pseudo-intellectual bastards you get at university who like to name drop all sorts of bloody novelists and sound all enthusiastic about them, without ever knowing anything important about them or having any real opinion about anything - those people are Inception - it seems impressive on the surface, but it becomes quickly obvious that this person has little of worth to say. Inception doesn't raise any philosophical questions or make me question my own reality or anything like that at all, and that would be fine, only it REALLY thinks that it DOES make you question those things. This would be Inception when it was at univeristy:

"Hm, that Hemmingway reference I made really struck a chord with every tonight at the cheese and wine social - I must be sure to always mention how much I love Hemmingway, they thought I was the bomb after I used the name Hemmingway...GOD, I JUST HOPE THEY DON'T ACTUALLY ASK ME ANYTHING ABOUT HIS BOOKS"

Except Inception wouldn't have that level of self-awareness.

Look, the Matrix worked because it immersed you into its world, slowly. Plus it was true to itself, it made no qualms about the fact that it was asking the audience to believe that we could go inside computers or that this world isn't real, blah, blah, blah - but it took the time to build this all up and we all said "this is new, THIS is good"...Inception on the other hand gets far too excited about its 'ideas' and shoots them all off in your face. As a caveman, Inception would have invented something like...cheese toasties...before inventing fire...cheese toasties are ok, but without fire (or heat or whatever) it's not a cheese toastie, now is it Inception.

"Noowh.. I guess not"

Darn tooting. So we the poor, saps of an audience have to be all like "What? Yeah, no, I totally instantly buy Leo didlidi Caprio being a 'dream agent' of sorts and launching himself around the place and yes I also believe that all these characters would take to his ideas straightaway and I also buy these instant-noodle rules that exist in the dream world, sure, why not" - here's why not, BECAUSE INCEPTION HAS NOT EARNT OUR BELIEF. It all just gets flung at us like a load of diving gear and then we're expected to jump into the reef...good greef*

*sorry.

And just, I have to give mention, to the dickhead from 100 Days of Summer, he's in the film being a stupid faced stupid and that stupid girl from Juno is also in the film, being a stupid faced stupid. Boy, those indie films of yours sure were ready made contrived crap guys - but at least you stayed true to your indie roots by featuring in this GIGANTIC PLACEBO BLOCKBUSTER.

So, in conclusion, if you see one film this year, don't, because it could all be a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream, within a dream - or not, whatever, who can say, but I bet you're totally questionning reality now.

p.s. Toy Story 3 is incredible, go and see that and see how a film should be made. I experience every emotion going. Top notch stuff.