Debate: You're Doing it Wrong

I should probably be in bed by now, but a couple of things have cropped up in my news feed tonight that will inevitably lead to arguments with imagined opposition in my own head while I'm trying to get to sleep, so I feel I must vent.

My political leanings are mostly liberal: I'm an atheist who believes in a person's right to do whatever they like, as long as it doesn't adversely impact the lives of others.

You want to get smacked off your arse on crack (for example)?  I believe in your right to do it.  You steal from someone to fund your habit?  I believe in your victim's right to break your fingers.

Yes, buying drugs funds criminal activity, which in turn adversely affects lives, but

that could be offset by legalisation, leading to safer drugs, better control, more taxes

to go into health and recovery services, and the removal of a significant revenue 

stream for said criminal activity.  (a deeper conversation for another time)

Similarly, if you're the type of ignorant half-wit who assumes superiority over someone else because of the amount a melanin in your skin, you be happy in your delusion.  The second you use it as an excuse to attack someone (physically or otherwise) is the second before you should be strung up to the nearest lamppost by your pubic hair.

I bring this up because Katy Perry was recently attacked for a racist jibe against Barack Obama.


In the video, she equates people lamenting her new hair style to those lamenting the loss of Obama as president, in an obvious use of exaggeration for comic affect.

Kind of like, "Look, I realise global warming is a ticking time bomb, but if we don't act soon, Bay might agree to another Transformers movie. Priorities, people!"

Of course, this being the age of the internet, rather than this being a borderline smirk-worthy thing said by a person, it's instead blown up into, "Rich bitch hates black people!"

The US has a serious problem with racism right now, but while it has remained prevalent for so long - in the main due to dense-skulled neanderthals denying its existence (generally because their heads are rammed too far up their own arses to notice it happening) - the issue isn't helped by reactionary half-wits on the opposite side of the aisle crying 'Racism!' whenever someone dares utter the word 'black'.

Not 30 minutes after seeing this story did I happen across another that, on closer inspection, highlighted the deep-seeded issue with social and political debate these days.

"A Republican congressman has suggested that poorer Americans do not deserve affordable healthcare because they have not led “good lives” and so bring it on themselves when they get sick."

No, he hasn't.

What he actually said was people with pre-existing conditions are a greater burden on health care, and should contribute more to offset the cost to those who "lead good lives".

Of course, that doesn't really sound much better: "If you're sick, it's your own fault.  Why should the rest of us have to pay for it?"

But he did immediately clarify: "Now, in fairness, a lot of people with pre-existing conditions...have those conditions through no fault of their own, and I think our society under those circumstances needs to help."


Don't get me wrong, I understand that there's nothing altruistic about his arguments.  He's simply trying to make sound fair a policy that allows insurance companies to discriminate against sick people, which makes him a scumbag.

But the thing those on the left need to learn is, you can't win the argument by misrepresenting what these scumbags say.  It makes it look like you're not really listening.  It makes it look like you're jumping on any soundbite you can find to support your argument, regardless of context.

You're like an anti-vaxxer or climate-change denier, who finds that one argument among a thousand that backs their view, and holds it up as 'proof' that they're right, and everyone else is wrong.

In other words, you look like an idiot.

Feverishly Elective: The Feckoning

Well, here we go again.

After spending the best part of a year assuring the Great British public that now was not the right time for an election - that the nation had to come together behind Brexit, rather than be pulled apart by another vote - Theresa may has called for another vote.

*sigh*

I'm still running the ins and outs of this through my head, and struggling to find where I stand on it, but I'm currently leaning slightly towards the positive.

Let's start with what will happen on the 8th of June: the Tories will win, May will (erroneously) claim a mandate from the people, and Jeremy Corbyn will be out of a job.  All of which, of course, is why she's done it.

While I started out with a (relatively) high opinion of Corbyn, that has flagged of late.  It's a rare thing to find a principled politician these days, and rarer still to find one who'll stick to those principles, but that's not enough.  Shallow as it may sound, a leader must have some presence; some charisma.  They must be able to convince others of their way of thinking, and that's not Jeremy Corbyn.

That said, it would have helped to have had his MPs show him even a modicum of backing, rather than plotting against him from the moment their own supporters gave him the position.  While Corbyn may not be a great leader, responsibility for the current state of the party rests firmly with those MPs who'd rather cling to D:reams of the glory days of the late 90s, than deal with the present, and acknowledge a need to move on.

I don't believe Corbyn could have ever won an election, but had his MPs not been so focused on castrating their own party, they may have at least closed the gap on May and the Tories.

That said, the Conservative Party's footing isn't nearly as stable as May thinks it is.  Yes, they've comfortably won a couple of local elections recently, but those were in constituencies that voted heavily for Brexit, and are no doubt enamoured by her all-or-nothing approach (as self-destructive as that is).  National opinion, however, has shifted somewhat since the referendum, with people becoming aware of what Brexit actually means, and the impact it is having and will have.

Not only is the pound clinging desperately to the u-bend, having been dropped in the crapper by the result, but our desperate need for trade-deals will keep it there until it can either clamber up the huge pile of excrement we're finally able to negotiate, or it's flushed into the sewer with nothing but America's meagre droppings to sustain it.

Speaking of the good ol' US of Aw crap, what's he's done now?!, that particular 'special relationship' is also likely to cause May an issue or two on the campaign trail.  Fearing our being cast adrift from the EU and its myriad trading partners, dear Theresa has taken every opportunity since November to plant her tongue firmly in the wigged tangerine's rectum in a display of such hurl-inducing fawning, even George W's prize poodle Blair looks restrained by comparison.

Add to that a crumbling NHS, a widely criticised obsession with Grammar Schools, repeated attacks on the poor and disabled, and telling the Scots that she knows better than them what they want, and any illusions of a free ride look increasingly delusional.

Unfortunately, the party and its leader's demonstrable ineptitude doesn't change the fact there's currently no one to challenge them.  Aside from Labour's obsession with marrying bullets to feet, the Lib Dems are still rebuilding after giving David Cameron carte blanche with a sledgehammer to their foundations, UKIP have achieved what they set out to achieve, and are now struggling to convince anyone they're still relevant, the Greens are enjoying 1980s levels of popularity, and despite being, for all intents and purposes, the Tories' only functioning opposition, geographical restrictions mean there's only so much the SNP can do.

So what's the point of even voting?

The point is that is exactly the question May wants us all asking.  If we're too busy lamenting the lack of a viable opposition to bother voting for any of them, then that will become the reality.  That's not to say everyone should vote Labour just for the sake of it, because that's the flip side of the same problem: if they don't like one, they vote for the other, and regardless of which wins, we're left with a self-indulgent ruling party, and a self-destructive opposition.

The problem with our political system isn't the number of supporters for one or the other, but the number of people who support neither, but see only the two options.

If everyone voted, and everyone voted based on policies, rather than old ideologies or attempting to back a winner, then we'd see a significant shake-up of the political landscape.  And while that might not solve any of our problems, it will at least put us on a path to solving them by showing all parties that if they're not good enough, we'll vote for someone else.

That might seem obvious, but the Tories have gutted our industry, crippled our NHS, demolished our education system, disenfranchised the poor and needy, are jumping into bed with a schizophrenic nuclear-weaponised five year-old engaged in a pissing context with a schizophrenic nuclear-weaponised ten year-old, all-but destroyed our economy and only ever help those who can already comfortably help themselves, and they're set to win a third general election!

May might get everything she thinks she wants out of this election, but that doesn't mean we can't lessen her standing, and make this a challenging few years.  Then we can finally look forward to a decent fight in 2022.

We just have to take the opportunity.

Mass Effect Andromeda: Day 1

Well, technically Day 1.5, due to the trial...but then the day started with the gym, and replacing a toilet seat and shower-curtain, so...

Mass Effect: Andromeda: Day 1

The first thing that bothered me when playing the trial was why all of the these scientists were so surprised Andromeda was a little different to what they expected before they left the Milky Way.  It's almost as if these "scientists" skipped their very first physics lesson in high-school, and weren't aware that when you look at something from 2 million light years away, you see it how it was 2 million years ago.

I later happened across a piece of dialogue that supposedly explained this, but the explanation was complete bollocks, and showed the writer probably also missed said class.

And yes, as everyone has pointed out, the character models suck.  They didn't bother me so much during the trial, but the longer I play, the more issues I'm seeing.  Supporting human characters are universally bad, as is squad-mate Liam.  Corra fairs better, and my Ryder, at least, is actually quite good - certainly more naturally expressive than Shepard - though I'd assume that can depend greatly on the design you go for.

The asari are somewhat better than the humans, though still a little stiff, and the rest of the aliens also look quite good, probably by virtue of looking so non-human in the first place.

Part of the problem seems to be that they've put so much effort into avoiding the puppet-like quality of the character movement in the previous games (for some of the characters, at least), that they instead appear disjointed, and ironically even more awkward than they used to.

One thing that is a step up from the previous trilogy is the characters' heights.  While before, the krogan, for example, towered over everyone else in cut-scenes (just look at Grunt's reveal in ME2), beyond that, they were the same height as everyone else.  In Andromeda, there is genuine variety, from the diminutive Peebee, to the statuesque Vetra, to the towering Drack.

Outside the character models, the game actually looks rather good, even on a GTX 980 (hardly a wimpy GPU, but nevertheless below recommended specs).  The vistas are nice, the sky-boxes are vast, and I like the galaxy map and the new effect when whipping around it (it may get tedious after a while, but I'm good with it for now).

And despite the GPU, and being 4GB short of the recommended 16GB of RAM, graphical issues are very few and far between.

Sound balancing, unfortunately, is way off, whatever setting used.  Unless you're within two feet of a character, and facing them, they sound like they're speaking through a wall a hundred yards away.  It's not so bad in direct conversations (unless the character is walking around too much), but the little asides and overheard conversations - which played such a big part in adding atmosphere, life and depth to ME3 - are barely audible.

That said, the voice acting (when you can hear it) is great.  I can't speak for MaleRyder, but FemRyder has a vivacity and youthful wonder that's always enjoyable, and her fellow crew members are fun to talk to...mostly.

Corra is your typical stuck-up soldier character, so like Kaiden, Ashley and Jacob before her, she's the boring crew member you only talk to for the sake of covering everyone.

Liam also comes dangerously close to the same, but has a bit of goofiness to make him a little more interesting.

Drack is your standard krogan, but taken to such an extreme - in both attitude and design - he stands out comfortably against Wrex and Grunt.

Far more interesting, however - at least from a characterisation perspective - are Vetra and Peebee.

Vetra has the usual turian stoicism, but without the military obsession with authority, or hard-on for calibrations.  She does have some of Garus's snark, but with a slyness undercutting it that sets her aside.

As for Peebee: she's almost completely lacking in any asari trait.  Despite sharing Liara's archaeological giddiness, gone is the sensual grace and ethereal elegance typical of her species (Matriarch Aethyta notwithstanding).  She's far more reminiscent of Sera from Dragon Age Inquisition (minus the ADHD) than the standard asari maiden.

My biggest criticism with the characters is that, having completed my first post-tutorial planet mission, I already have all but one of my crew, and thanks to the silhouette on the crew roster, and the overly revealing marketing campaign, there's no surprise as to who - or, at least, what - that final crew member is going to be.

On the gameplay front, it's all good so far.  The return to a non-locking cover system - ala ME1 - is jarring at first, but it promotes more fluid, kinetic combat, especially when playing a vanguard.  The new tools - including a jump-jet, dash and new melee attack - take some getting used to, and it's easy to get overwhelmed early on (the game is not forgiving for newbies (especially in multiplayer)), but once you get the hang of it, it's a lot of fun, and probably the best of the series so far.

As is the levelling system.  Like the combat, it can be overwhelming, but if you've got a good idea of the type of character you want to play, there's a lot of scope in there for personalisation, especially with the addition of multiple specialisations, and the crafting system.

In some respects, crafting isn't quite as in-depth or user friendly as that of DG: Inquisition, but it's a welcome addition, as is the mining mechanic, which now incorporates the new ATV, the Nomad.

Though returning briefly to narrative issues; it's odd that technology appears to have moved on so much, despite everyone leaving the Milky Way pre-ME3, and being asleep for 600 years (they apparently don't even need Mass Relays to hop between systems any more).

Andromeda has taken a lot of heat from critics for how slapdash a lot of it is, and I can't really argue with that.  Given that this is the first Mass Effect of a new generation, we were right to expect better from Bioware, especially as - from a technical standpoint - we've already seen better from them in Dragon Age.

That said, the combat has been improved, the story is intriguing (if relying a little too much on suspension of disbelief), the multiplayer's solid (incorporating it directly into the main campaign is a nice touch) and most importantly, this does (so far) feel like a Mass Effect game.

I've still a long way to go, but for now it feels good to be back.

Budgets Large, Budgets Small, Budgets Wasted on Bugger-All

A mere two days after my last review roundup, I find myself with another five to do, but seeing as I'm only three episodes in to (the so far rather tedious) Iron Fist, and I've only completed the trial of (the so far excellent (though as ropy around the edges as its forebears)) Mass Effect: Andromeda, I'll stick with the movie options for now.

Starting with Ghost in the Shell.  

Technically, I should put this off like those other two, as I've only seen the first 13 minutes, but having seen those first 13 minutes, I have no desire to see any more.  The film got a lot of flack when first announced, not only because it was yet another doomed-to-failure Hollywood adaptation of a beloved anime, but because of the casting of Scarlet Johansson as "The Major".

Or, to give the character her full name (which, evidently, the film tries to avoid), Major Mokoto Kusanagi:

Who spends more time in Super Hero Landing pose than Marvel's entire cast combined

Granted, the character doesn't look very Japanese (purple hair aside), but this was nevertheless an opportunity to give much-needed exposure to an Asian actress in a major leading role (no pun intended), and Hollywood simply pussied out.  Similar to The Great Wall, I have seen comments from Asian commentators welcoming the casting of these big-name Hollywood actors in these roles, as they will potentially draw in the crowds and raise interest in these Asian properties, but I'm afraid it doesn't really work like that.

In terms of The Great Wall, anyone going to see it for the epic martial arts action is already sold on the genre and is left curious as to what Matt Damon has to do with any of it, and anyone going to see it for Matt Damon is confused as to why he's apparently playing Jason Bourne meets Legolass in the middle of Cirque du Soleil.

As for Ghost in the Shell, anyone going to see it because they love the anime and/or Manga, and anyone going to see it for Scar Jo in a skin-suit, are going to be put off by the simple fact it's crap.

The whole white-washing controversy is the least of its issues.  By the sweet balls of Masamune Shirow, have they missed the mark with this one!  From the hackneyed, clichéd plot - laid out in the opening two minutes by some cringe-worthy exposition -  to the garish aesthetic, to the Charlie's Angels-quality wire work, there's an amateurishness to the whole production that reeks of desperation.  And even Johansson's magnificent curves aren't enough to save it.

Also, even as someone always down on Hollywood's misguided obsession with the dead-on-arrival tech, the 3D here is particularly atrocious.

Fortunately, this 13 minutes of predictable tedium was brought to us courtesy of an advanced screening of Free Fire.  One of my favourite scenes in the tremendous Pineapple Express comes at the climax, as a bunch of cowardly, gun-shy incompetents become embroiled in an epic shoot-out.  Free Fire takes that basic idea, throws in a somewhat more diverse cast, and draws it out to an hour and a half.

And it is wonderful!

Every member of the cast is on point, with Cillian Murphy adding farcical comedy to his already-eclectic range, Armie Hammer completely shaking off The Lone Ranger as a bodyguard just close enough to being as good as he thinks he is to warrant the bravado, yet just far enough from it to make that bravado hilarious, and Brie Larson showing there's more to her than just intense, Oscar-bait drama or token monster-movie totty.

The supporting cast is equally as strong, with the rival dogs-bodies of each group playing off each other, and the rest of the cast, tremendously.

But it's Sharlto Copely who steals the show.  Having come to prominence as an out-of-his-depth bureaucrat in District 9, surprised all us 80s kids with a fantastic turn as Howling Mad Murdoch in The A-Team, then brutal heavy in Elysium, and creepy and sinister in Old Boy, his diversity shows no bounds as a slimy and skeevy used-car-salesman-come-weapons-dealer.  He's cocky, yet neurotic and cowardly; savvy, yet moronic; two-faced, yet desperate for loyalty.  He's by no means a subtle character, but he is nevertheless convincing, and utterly hilarious.

Outside of the cast, the script is as sharp as a playful Tarantino, the action is inspired in its idiocy, and bloody to the point of brutal when it needs to be, and the film moves at such a pace, its 90 minutes felt like brisk sprint next to Ghost in the Shell's 13 minute death-crawl.

Finally, there's Beauty and the Beast.  Given that this is a big-budget live-action Disney adaptation of one of the House of Mouse's most beloved animated films, it should, on the face of it, warrant a post of its own, but Disney didn't bother with a new script, so why should I bother with more writing?

This is a film that will live or die based on what its audience is looking for.  Those after a (mostly) faithful adaptation of the 90's film will be (mostly) pleased with what they get.  Whereas anyone looking for a new take on the classic fairytale, obviously haven't been watching any trailers.

All of the beloved scenes and songs are here, translated to live-action with degrees of success varying from passable, to on-a-par, to genuinely superior.  I'm somewhat baffled by the casting of Ewan McGregor as Lumière; one of the few French characters in the film portrayed with a French accent.  He's undoubtedly there for his name alone, but he doesn't do a bad job, and his rendition of Be Our Guest - the unequivocal show-piece of both versions - is among the passable.  Emma Watson - despite the trailers showing a somewhat pantomime-esque performance - is surprisingly good as Belle, and carries the film well, but the true joys of the whole production are Luke Evans as Gaston and Josh Gad as Lefou.

For starters, their takes on their respective numbers are arguably superior to the animated versions!

Evans' Gaston is everything you want him to be - arrogant, yet oblivious; cocky, yet cowardly; genuinely more intelligent than almost everyone else around him, yet nevertheless an imbecile - and his voice is superb.

Josh Gad's Lefou, however, is everything you didn't know you wanted him to be.  At first, he's a slightly more obsessive version of the animated character (and for a very specific, and much publicesed reason), but Gad gives Lefou depth and nuance hitherto unseen in such a character, and with a pay-off at once charming, funny and wholly appropriate.

The film does struggle by comparison to its predecessor - as with Be Our Guest, most of the returning songs aren't quite as strong, there's some exposition thrown in to circumvent some of the prior questions (e.g. why all the servants were also cursed), and the big ballroom scene isn't quite as grand - but where the film falls flattest is in the new it tries to bring to the table: specifically the new songs.

The first isn't so bad - a relatively sweet and inoffensive verse from Belle's father - but there are three more planted throughout the rest of the film, and each is more abysmal than the last.  Every one is a bland, sappy, vapid, meaningless excursion that drags the film to a screeching halt, and kills any pacing and atmosphere built to that point.  I understand the desire to throw something new in there to differentiate it from the 90's classic, but each effort just demonstrates how much better it could have been without them.

I can't deny it's a good adaptation, and Rhiannon - a life-long fan of the original - was mostly giddy throughout (she agreed regarding the tragedy of the new songs), but other than Evans and Gad, there wasn't enough here to justify the adaptation, and I think it will mostly make people nostalgic for the 'original'.

Sometimes at Odds, Sometimes Sympatico

As mentioned last time, I've found writing this thing a tad difficult of late, given everything that's going on in the world, and the dizzying rate the happenings are...happening...

This has included reviewing our past few cinema goings.  In the past month, we've seen Lego Batman, John Wick: Chapter 2, Logan and Kong: Skull Island.

In brief:

• Great
• Spectacular
• Tremendous
• Terrible

Those first three are very much in-keeping with the general consensus among critics and audiences alike.  Much like The Lego Movie, The Lego Batman Movie surprised everyone by being more than just an extended toy advert: witty, inventive, exciting, layered and offering a brand new spin on well-established - sometimes long-tired - characters, ideas and themes (their take on the Joker, and his relationship with Batman, is beautiful).

John Wick Chapter 2 was far less of a surprise, given the quality of its forebear, but there is always the risk of sequelitis, and it can't be denied it did suffer slightly in that regard.  But this is not sequelitis in the usual respect of either trying too hard to outdo the original (Mummy Returns; Independence Day Resurgence) or lazily cashing in (The Lost World: Jurassic Park; RED 2; Independence Day Resurgence).  The one and only issue with Chapter 2 was the very fact that it was't a surprise.  John Wick came out of nowhere, and it was joyous.  Chapter 2 lacked that sense of wonder, but was, nevertheless, spectacular.

Logan too wasn't much of a surprise, but given the diminished-with-time quality of much of the X-Men franchise, there was no guarantee the promise of those beautiful trailers was going to pay off with anything more than The Wolverine with a bit more blood and bad language.  Fortunately, not only were the shackles of the dreaded PG-13 / 12A certificate removed (though, paradoxically, the sheer volume of 'fucks' early on came across as adolescent), but also any forced franchise ties.  While references are made to characters and incidents that have come before, Logan stands very much on its own, creating its own continuity, and playing out more like a western than a super-hero movie.

In fact, as one review pointed out, while this is by some distance the best film to come out of the X-Men franchise, it is not the best X-Men film (that would be First Class).  Logan isn't about the X-Men.  It isn't even about mutants.  It's about an old man looking to escape a troubled past, but being forced to face up to it and find redemption in the form of protecting a (admittedly not exactly helpless) young girl.

A young girl, by the way - and I realise I'm digressing quite substantially at this point, but now that I've started writing about this film and its cast, I just want to gush - who should not be overlooked for a Best Supporting Actress nom next year.  My word, Dafne Keen was awesome!  Charged with being eerily stoic, feral, savage, innocent, athletic and bi-lingual, while carrying some heavy emotional scenes, all of which she steals from her co-stars, despite them all bringing their A-game: Hugh Jackman's Logan is broken, world-weary, and physically and emotionally vulnerable; Patrick Stewart's Xavier is weak and tired, haunted by tragedies he barely remembers, losing his grip on himself and reality, yet consistently funny, and as fatherly as he ever was; Stephen Merchant's Caliban is a tragic, sarky sage, persistently holding Logan to task - and all of them are struggling to come to terms with their past sins.

Even Boyd Holbrook's Pierce, who could have easily been just another henchman, has enough personality to entertain whenever he's on screen.

But it's the 11 year-old Keen who owns the screen whenever she's on it.

All three of these films have enjoyed varying degrees of universal praise, as has - to my slight surprise - Skull Island.

I expected to love Skull Island.  I'm a sucker for a creature feature, regardless of the quality, and will even admit to being a fan of Cloverfield, Roland Emmerich's Godzilla and Peter Jackson's King Kong (the more recent Godzilla had a spectacular climax, but was otherwise a tedious slog of dull human characters, and frustrating teases of monster-on-monster action).  I'm not saying these films are good, necessarily, but I found each of them entertaining in their own way.

And every critic I follow appears to have a similar opinion of Skull Island.  Yes it's silly, yes the characters are a bunch of 2-dimensional archetypes, and yes, the plot's thinner than American beer in a cheap pub, but when 75% of the film is monsters eating people, then being stomped by a giant monkey, who cares?

Well, for some unfathomable reason, I do.  Maybe it was because I expected more - possibly too much - of a new King Kong, made with new technology, and featuring the likes of Tom Hiddleston, Samuel L. Jackson and John Goodman, or maybe it was just a little too slick, lacking the goofiness of earlier creature features that helped audiences look passed the flaws.

Whatever the reason, I had this unshakable sense of detachment throughout.  It all starts promisingly enough, with Goodman's obsessive scientist desperate for government backing, the introduction of Hiddleston as a grizzled badass, and a disheartened Jackson leading an eclectic army unit coming to the end of its tour in Vietnam.  Even Brie Larsson's plucky journalist has some intriguing savvy about her.

In fact - and completely at odds with the usual nature of the genre - all was going well, right up until the monkey showed up.  While I appreciate the lack of fumbling about with character development before getting to the good stuff, and Kong's unexpectedly blunt reveal and subsequent battle is fantastic, once the players are on the titular island, the characters are immediately reduced to type, and become background noise between the fights.

The biggest criticism levied at Peter Jackson's King Kong was it was far too slow, but while I can appreciate that - and can't deny it had some pacing issues - I was personally drawn in by the 1920s setting, Jackson's heart-on-his-sleeve style, and the eclectic cast of characters.  Plus, the extended edition featured a lot more monsters-eating-extras goodness in the build-up (and no extended anything else).

John C. Reilly does show up in Skull Island as the one interesting character amidst the post-monkey blandness, and Hiddleston does get a damn fine set-piece against a bunch of mini pterodactyl thingies, but every set-piece comes so thick and fast, interspersed with standard action-shots of the cast posing against the carnage, that it wound up feeling more like an overblown music video than an epic action film.

It was the exact opposite of Gareth Edwards' Godzilla: while that was trying too hard for emotional depth, tense pacing and thought-provoking plot - failing at all three and boring us silly in the process - Skull Island abandoned all that after 10 minutes for a few rounds of King of Monsters without the interactivity.

I wouldn't say Skull Island was as bad Independence Day Regurgitation, and I can't deny there was a lot that I should have loved about it - and plenty of others did love about it - but I just couldn't suspend my disbelief far enough to enjoy any of it.

Orange is the New White (Supremacist)

It has been a struggle writing this entry, not just because every other day has brought fresh insanity from Trump and his team of twisted, totalitarian turd wombles, currently driving the US headlong towards the 19th century, but also because that is just one branch of the ugly tree slapping our species around the face as we tumble towards its roots.

Whether it be extremists in the East butchering their fellow man and kidnapping children to sell as sex slaves, or wealthy scumbags in the West praying on the ignorance and fears of the unwashed masses to secure themselves a bit more power and a lot more cash, at the expense of the very people raising them to their thrones, it's all too easy to look at the current state of the world and despair.

The Trump age of Twattishness began before he'd even taken office, as he seemed to be back-tracking on a number of pre-election promises regarding the arrest of Hilary Clinton, the abolition of the Affordable Care Act - or 'Obamacare', for those seemingly unaware they're the same thing - his totally-not-a-Muslim-ban and his border wall.  While this apparent softening was reassuring to those panicked by his impending presidency, it did not sit well with the Kla- sorry, clans of ignorant hick halfwits who'd voted for him on the back of those pledges.

But fear not, blinkered bigots of backwater America!  No sooner was his little hand off the Bible than it was clamped to the pussy of Lady Liberty, as he spewed forth such isolationist rhetoric that had not been heard since a greasy little mono-bollocked Charlie Chaplin impersonator had waxed lyrical on the benefits of inbreeding.

And then, without even pausing for the weekend, he was off with his pen, scrawling over hastily compiled, clumsily written, insulting, ill-thought-out and downright childish literature, like Stephanie Meyer at a book signing.

Yes, all that hateful crap he said he'd do, then sorta acted like maybe he'd put a bit more thought into, he went ahead and did anyway.

Except for the Hilary thing, of course.  Pre-election, Trump's idea of high treason was using an unsecured email account.  Post-election, it's questioning the legality and constitutionality of a targeted immigration ban.

Not that it is a Muslim ban!

All it is is a temporary restriction on people from certain (predominantly Muslim) countries 

(that Trump doesn't have business investments in), with a...softer focus on those who are...

not of those countries' predominant (Muslim) faith...

See?  Totally not a Muslim ban!

The big overarching reason behind all of this nonsense appears to be his chosen sources of information, but that in itself brings up a question: does Trump genuinely believe this crap (as his ever-more beleaguered press secretary suggests), or is he looking to those for excuses for everything he's doing?

Part of me wishes it was the latter because, whatever his endgame is - how ever nefarious and self-serving - at least he'd be in some kind of control.

Unfortunately, I suspect the former is far more likely: that the President of the United States is an ignorant, unstable, small-minded halfwit believing everything Steven Bannon whispers in his ear between thrusts.

Meanwhile, a few miles due east, our own woefully under-qualified and un-democratically elected head of government was continuing the age-old tradition of the Tory leader skirting difficult questions by repeating the same empty, noncommittal rhetoric until the questioner gets bored and moves on.

In her defence, her focus was possibly elsewhere; most likely thinking of ways to suck up to little Donald while subtly staying out of groping range.

Her visit was as wretched as anyone could have predicted, with her not only avoiding any topic of conversation that might ruffle his hairpiece, but slavering over him like a cheerleader over a quarterback.

However, while May was keen to avoid any mention of immigration or torture (probably because they're not entirely at odds (at least when it come to the former)), the Beeb's Laura Kuenssberg was not so reticent.

Compare May's grovelling, too, to the responses of Angela Merkel, François Hollande and a number of other EU leaders, as well as Chinese State Media and even the Speaker of the House of Commons, and I'm left wondering - as I have before - is this really the best we can do?

A spineless, witless, clueless, feckless, directionless, blithering, flapping, vapid, hypocritical cretin on one side of the Atlantic, and a weak-willed, thin-skinned, perverted, angry, disrespectful, petty, greedy, small-minded, homophobic, xenophobic, misogynistic, hypocritical, cheap-wigged varnished turd on the other?

Xi Jinping must be laughing his knackers off at two of the biggest economies in the western hemisphere being led by a pair with less combined human worth than the stuff the slime at the bottom of the barrel scrapes off its brogues.

Sadly, when one looks at the opposition, the answer appears to be 'yes'.

When the Shadow Cabinet quit in protest at Jeremy Corbyn's leadership, I thought it was not only a pathetic and desperate ploy by a bunch of Blairites to return the party to the ideals of 10 years ago (that have seen them pummelled in two General Elections), but a disgusting betrayal of both their supporters who'd overwhelmingly put Corbyn there in the first place, and the British people as a whole by crippling any opposition to the government when we needed it most.

This time, however, I believe Corbyn is the one on the wrong side of the fence.  Despite the government's repeated claims that they're exercising the 'will of the people', who voted with their 'eyes wide open', the Leave campaign won by the narrowest of margins on the back of a torrent of lies.  How many now lament their vote (or lack thereof)?

Forcing your MPs to vote a certain way for fear of looking out of touch, or upsetting your base, is pathetic, divisive and destructive, and very much not the will of the people.

Not to mention pointless.  Despite all the talk of blocks and oversight and amendments, and after a fight in the courts to give Parliament a say on the bill, it was passed without a single change, opening the door for May to handle Brexit how ever she sees fit.

Good job, Jezza.

So where do we turn in this time of political strife, when the leaders of two of the most significant powers in the western world are as beneficial as diarrhoea at rush-hour?  Many look to this handsome devil:

The one on the left

And it's easy to see why: he's young, handsome and erudite; an advocate for women's and LGBTQ rights; outspoken on environmental issues and those affecting indigenous people...

Right?

Well, about that... Prime Minister Justin Trudeau Makes Major Decisions for Canadian Pipeline Approvals 

But let's look on the bright side... 

Um...

Ooh! The Lego Batman Movie was good!

RIP Carrie Fisher

I've always had a thing for heroines.  When I was growing up, male heroes were everywhere: He-Man, Action Man, Transformers, Star Wars, Superman.  Every franchise was built around its male heroes.

As a result, the heroes of every franchise bored the piss out of me.  They were great for what they were, and made for some awesome toys and occasionally aspirational figures, but I found them all narratively tedious.

I was instead fascinated by the female equivalents / members of the male-dominated teams: She-Ra, Arcee, Supergirl, Cheetara.  And that was all before I was old enough to see them as anything other than arse-kicking heroes.

Nor was this strictly down to their rarity: female-led stories have always had something more to them.  While Hercules was about some noble buff dude punch bad-guys and throwing them around like unconvincing rag-dolls, Xena was about a violent warrior maiden looking to atone, and taking on a sidekick who represented those she was desperate to view her in a different light.

I have never been so eager to read a comic as when I first discovered X-23.  And they all do pretty much the same thing, but just look at how a-typical Van Helsing or the Beaumont boys are compared to the complexity of Buffy.

And this love of the heroine can be traced right back to Princess Leia.  A supposed damsel-in-distress, the first thing she does when being 'rescued' is insult one of her assumed captors, take the piss out of her "heroes'" poor excuse for a plan, then save them all herself, while proving a better shot than the experienced smuggler, the child of prophecy, and an entire battalion of empirical troopers.  

Think about that: the Empire tortures her to discover the location of the rebels' base, and she resists; they threaten her entire planet, and she sends them to the wrong location; she sees her entire planet - including her mother and father - blown to smithereens, and the moment a pair of blundering wannbes get her out of her cell, she assumes command, questions one's ability to look after himself, and casually refers to a 7ft roaring beast with a high-powered crossbow as a 'walking carpet'.

One of her heroes sees his mentor - an old hermit he was casually acquainted with - sacrifice himself, and despite all Leia's been through, *she's* the one comforting *him*!  When she should have been: "Bitch, I've just lost my family, my people and my entire fucking planet! Grow a pair and go shoot some Tie Fighters!"

She outwits the Empire's highest ranks, and without pausing for a much-deserved nap after all she's already been through, she takes command of the rebellion and helps lead them to a decisive victory.

AND THAT'S JUST IN THE FIRST FILM!

By the time of episode VII, her son's turned to the dark side, her husband's pissed off to look for his ship, her brother - the JEDI MASTER - has disappeared because it's all too much to handle, and she's COMMANDING A NEW REBELLION AGAINST AN ORDER ARISEN FROM THE FALLEN EMPIRE, LED BY HER OWN HOMICIDAL OFFSPRING!

And only someone like Carrie Fisher could have brought that to life.  Only someone with that vivacity, that self-assurance, that strength and certainty of character.

Though to define her by that character is to undermine who she really was: an author; an activist; a paragon for equality.  She was the go-to script-doctor for many of Hollywood's big-name screenwriters.  She was an avatar for facing and owning one's emotional demons and sexual identity, and for not being defined by any of it.

Carrie Fisher was a true great of Hollywood and beyond, and a sad loss to us all.