Kick-Ass cinema trip...

Kick-Ass last night. Lived up to its title. Beautifully choreographed, baletic Woo-style violence and action, funny and very tightly knitted screenplay and solid performances from a quality Anglo-American ensemble. This film looks superb throughout and the story is just crazy. Chloë Moretz's Hit-Girl is the finest, handiest, weapon-savvy child since Natalie Portman's Mathilda in Leon. Loved every one of its 117 minutes. Apart from, well, the set up for the sequel at the end, which, as welcome as it will be, and as much of a nod it was to all those Super Hero films that have preceded Kick Ass, came across as just a little bit smug (yes, yes, that was the point). But the best thing I've seen in a long, long while.

I expected the cinema to be busy. Up until a minute before the main feature, there were four of us in front of the screen. Sod's law dictated that, as the feature was about to start, a group of noisy young folk would plonk themselves and fill the row in front of us - and take 15 minutes of the film to calm down and shut up. And just in the nick of time, as I was about to get nasty. Quite why that row and not one of the 15 others is beyond me. As Hit Girl would have it, they were c*nts.

These are crazy nights...

To see The Crazies last night with son Sam. I especially enjoyed the moment when Sam jumped out of his seat, turned to me and said, "That frightened me." Which I'm sure is the intended effect (The Crazies is rammed full of moments designed to make the audience jump, although they don't always work) throughout this epidemic thriller. The film was ok. I'm not familiar with George Romero's 1973 film of the same name so can't compare and contrast with Bruce Eisner's effort that was 'inspired' by its predecessor. What truly horrified me, given that we've been frequenting Vue and Reel of late, was the extortionate price of seats at the Odeon. "It is expensive, isn't it?" said the 60-year-old bloke behind the counter, who must have been considering tendering his resignation at the moment he sold us the tickets.

Come with me...

Something has bugged me about that Sky+HD Supertelly advert since I first saw it. At first I just thought it was because it's had me doing a Gene Wilder impersonation and singing Pure Imagination at the most inappropriate times. It's a sad song, mainly because, in Willy Wonka's colourful, hallucinogenic environment, if you want to view paradise all you have to do is simply look around and view it. "Anything you want to," sings Willy, "do it. Want to change the world? There's nothing to it." If only, eh?

Things came into some kind of focus last night, when I went to see Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland in 3D, and the Sky ad came on while I was trying to concentrate on eating all the food and drinking all the drinks I'd bought before the film started*. I turned to eldest son Scott and suggested to him that there's nothing imaginative about subscribing to a Sky package. Indeed, you don't really need an imagination at all to watch the tellybox, do you, it is a passive medium. And imagination is even less of a requirement in the high definition world, where, as I seem to remember a salesman telling me when I was having a slow day once, every blade of grass can be picked out individually. Why, it's more realistic than life itself (at which point I thought I better shut up, as the "put on your 3D glasses NOW!" notice had appeared on screen).

The advert is set amid a Huxleyan Fordesque assembly line - a factory - which, I imagine, is very much the environment that Murdoch has created within his many Sky-related call centres. As such, the ad itself is a post-modern, unimaginative parody of all of those car adverts featuring robots and also Monsters Inc. The problem being that, for the most part, Sky are at the most unimaginative end of the TV business - they buy their imaginative products and creativity from elsewhere. "Your TV, with a Sky+ box, is Supertelly," we're told. But pure imagination? I don't think. Unless, when you're watching Pineapple Dance Studios or endless repeats of American Gladiators, what is going through your mind is...

There is no
Life I know
To compare with
Pure imagination
Living there
You'll be free
If you truly
Wish to be

I dunno. Maybe listen to the radio once in a while? Read a book? Experience a live event by actually going to it?

If you must, you can view the Sky+HD Supertelly advert on youtube here

*Slightly hampered by two latecomers knocking son Sam's skateboard flying in the air, which propelled a drink into the row in front.

Customer survey...

Two cinema tickets in my mouth. Frantically rummaging around in each pocket to find the third. A job made somewhat more difficult by the nachos, jalapeno peppers, cheese sauce and salsa balancing in the hand that isn't rummaging. The film has already started. We are edging closer to the stub-ripper when I'm approached by a man dressed from head to toe in black. "I wonder if you'd take part in our customer survey?" It's a good job I didn't - I would only have had bad things to say about this multiplex. "Let me think," I said, "No, I can't be bothered. Goodbye." He didn't approach me when we exited a couple of hours later.

Planet 51...

Went to see Planet 51 with son Sam yesterday. Mildly amusing and I liked it and the 1950s-fixation throughout. We were the only two punters in Screen 5 at Reel in Hull which was, for once, not the coldest room in the universe, but it did feel rather strange to have nobody sitting around us, talking incessantly. So, taking advantage of the private screening, we did more talking than usual. Mainly because Sam was holding the nachos (a unique occurrence) and I had to keep bothering him for one. At one point the day's frenzied activity caught up with me and I closed my eyes. "Wake up! I can't believe you're asleep," shouted Sam. I wasn't. Although it reminded me of Star Wars at the Dorchester in 1977 when my old man nodded off during the Death Star battle.

That's paranormal...

Went to see Paranormal Activity with son Sam last night. It wasn't bad. We had the screen to ourselves right up to the moment when the film began, then we were joined by some silly, giggling girls. Perhaps understandably, they screamed at every bump in the night but, when the lights went back up at the film's conclusion, one group made a rather strange deal about how they hadn't screamed at all. Simple story that will have been easily shot for the much-hyped 15k. Wish I'd thought of doing it!

2012...

Picked up Vue's in-house, comma-tastic publication prevue (I like the title, it's oh so very clever and I also like Vue, their nice comfy seats and adult-sized leg room and, in Hull, the whole "only digital multiplex in Europe" thing) when we were at A Christmas Carol 3D yesterday. A pull-out quote in prevue made me laugh about but also put me off the forthcoming (the word forthcoming is only used in reference to films, isn't it?) sensory-blitzing 2012. "The human stories," goes the quote, "seem destined to play second fiddle to the effects, after all, seeing the end of the world is what you've paid your money for!" I especially like that exclamation mark. Who needs stories about humans when you can blow shit up? That, my friends, is the future. Who will survive 2012? I don't think it matters! All that matters is the catastrophe!