Wanderlust: Road Warrior?

If like me, you're bored of life and filled with a desire to travel the world and have some adventures, travel books are a blessing and a curse. They help you learn about different places and can inspire trips, but at the same time they just exacerbate your wanderlust. Its like giving someone who suffers from paranoia the X-Files box set. Sure, they'll enjoy the well written scripts and cool plots, get engrossed with the Scully-Mulder sexual chemistry but its not going to calm the voices that someone is after them.
I'm currently reading By Any Means by Charley Boorman, its an alright book, although Boorman's not the best writer but its still entertaining as he travels from Ireland to Australia by a variety of different vehicles and avoiding commercial airlines.
While in India he meets this fella who's there to raise money for charity by doing the Rickshaw Run. A quick google search later and I had a new crazy dream to pursue:
The Rickshaw Run.
Kind of a rally across India in auto-rickshaws AKA tuk tuks, a vehicle painfully inadequate for the epic journey and conditions. It sounds like a really cool adventure, and a brilliant way to see India, which seems like a fascinating country and is high on my dream destinations list. Throw in that the whole thing is to raise cash for charity and its a brilliant idea.
I instantly read more about the event, and liked what I saw- genuine danger, the chance to pimp your tuk tuk and a cricket match against the locals.
The whole thing is organised by The Adventurists a group of people who seem to be a lot like me, if I was more commited, a harder worker and not so easily distracted by porn and crap daytime TV.
So I've decided to give it a go, although there are a few obstacles to overcome-
1. I don't have a driving license.
With a hint of naivety I assumed you could just rock up in India, have a quick briefing about a tuk tuk and then set off, but apparently you need a license. Now there's some kind of international document but to get that I need to learn to drive here, so I think its time I got busy with that and started up the driving lessons again, meaning I may have to delay my motorbike plan. My plan was to do my CBT shortly after getting back from Sri Lanka and get cracking on that, but if I'm going for a car license I'm not sure if I should wait on the bike thing. I suppose I could do both, as the car thing would help with work as well.
I also think it shows rare thoughtfulness on my part to arrange the CBT for after Sri Lanka, instead of just rushing into it, but I figure going to Sri Lanka potentially in a cast would be a drag.
Okay, so I guess I should just sort some lessons out.
2. Cash.
To enter the Run costs around a grand, as does a deposit for the tuk tuk and on top of that there's flight costs and money needed for the journey. I had the idea that I could maybe get a company to sponsor me, but I need to look into companies that do stuff like that. Will investigate further.
3. Charity Cash.
Not really an issue I suppose. You need to raise a minimum of a grand for charity, but I think that's doable from friends and family, especially as with teammates (more on that later) the load would be spread about and I could probably set up a justgiving page as well. So that would be easy to sort, as soon as the rest of the run is sorted.
4. Work.
The run takes 2 weeks, roughly, so I'd need to book about 3 weeks off, and I'm not sure if work'd go for that, also there's the fact that returning from India, hopefully successful, pumped and knackered would not be condusive to me going back to a job which, quite frankly, I loathe. Did fantasise about writing a book about the trip, thus giving me a way out of the job. But that could just be a pipe dream.
5. Team.
Doing something like this solo would be insane, so I'd need to put a team together. Teams can be up to four people, but I think 3 is probably the ideal. Means it's not one-on-one which'd probably fray earlier but means the tuk tuk won't be too overcrowded. So what I need is two of my mates who are stupid enough to go in on this with me.
6. Wimpyness.
The trip will be tough, there's no question. Not just the distance but the problems you might encounter and the conditions. About 30% don't finish the run, and the website points out that injury is a distinct possibility. We all like to think when the shit goes down we're going to rise to it and be like Rambo or something.
But not everybody can be like John J. some of us are going to be like that idiot kid in Volcano or lose our shit like Hudson.

I've never put myself in this kind of situation before. The trip to Morocco had a few stresses, but they were minor ones, and granted on this I wouldn't be alone, but what happens if all this trip does is hammer home how much of a pussy I am? I'd come back all jaded and broken, confidence shot and probably never travel again.
Damn, got a little negative there. Let's spin the alternate reality version- I do the run. Its hard, tough and gruelling and I struggle, but I wind up completing it and come back pumped up and feeling like a god damned sexual Tyrannosaurus. It'd spur me on to get myself out of this rut I feel I'm in and do even cooler and crazier shit.
I like that version better, and not just because I get to describe myself using a Predator quote. Sod it, nothing ventured, nothing gained. And to help the situation along I'm going to try and get in better shape before the run.
So if I can solve these problems its a go, and I'm hoping to do the Autumn 2012 run.
Any thoughts, or advice? You know what to do. TTFN

Go Chris, Its Your Birthday!

This week I turned 26, it was a bit of a drag as I had to work, but all in all a good birthday, grabbed a curry with my family on Tuesday night and got some pretty cool presents including a new camera and The Walking Dead boxset, meaning I can now document my trip to Sri Lanka and sink even deeper into zombie paranoia. So due to my birthday being midweek it was decided that I'd use one of my rare weekends off to go out Saturday night.
With cash a little tight the plan was for people to gather at mine, have a few drinks and then wander into town later.
The pre-town drinks included a bucket of punch which was essentially Sex On The Beach with lemonade added, and had the lethal combination of being quite strong while going down really easily, meaning that added to a couple of joints and some cider I was soon buzzed.
Hanging here was pretty cool, eating pizza and chatting to people, including Mike who I've not seen in ages and who I chatted about movies and computer games for ages. Dude is cool as hell and like me considering getting a motorbike licence.
We also watched some of the Champions League final, and despite wanting Manchester United to win I cheered when Messi scored. It was viewed through a boozy haze but what I remember Barcelona were the better team and they're just brilliant to watch, especially Messi who transforms with the ball at his feet from a slightly innocuous, almost gormless bloke to a sporting legend.
Headed into town and first stop was Yates' who seem determined to get me hammered every time I go there. My last visit was around Christmas where £1 vodka-red bulls kicked my arse and this time they were doing pitchers for a fiver. I have no idea what was in them as I saw the poster and just ordered "The five pound pitcher". I split two with Mike and am fairly sure I had about 1.5 by the end.
I also danced like a muppet to S Club 7 and Whigfield, the dance routine to which I really struggle to remember.I got chatting to two girls and popped out for a fag with them. Both were hot, one more than the other, but in A Beautiful Mind way I decided to focus on the less attractive one, as I figured I didn't have a shot with either of them but feared the hotter one would destroy my advances.
My plan didn't work out as I wound up chatting away to both of them and in fact spending most of the time with the hotter one.
I feel really bad about referring to one as "the hotter one" it just seems a tad chauvinistic so instead I'm going to refer to them as Betty and Veronica, Veronica being the hotter.So Veronica and I got chatting, she had a killer body, long legs and firm, perky breasts. She was tall too, only slightly shorter than me. I complimented her on looking good while still trying to engage with Betty as I thought it'd be a bit off to just ignore her.
Veronica said that she usually wore less (she was in jeans and a long sleeved, tight but not low cut top) but that she was feeling a little self conscious. The reason for this that under one of her eyes she had a small scar, which I forget how she got now. I told her that she didn't have to worry as she was gorgeous and that the scar wasn't some huge Bond villain style disfigurement. In fact, I thought it made her kind of exotic and mysterious like a Bond girl. It would appear that when drunk my frame of reference shrinks to just including Bond movies.She said I was sweet and Betty bought me a drink. Standing at the bar Veronica danced next to me, doing a little bit of grinding against me, which left me rather excited and meant that for probably the only time I found myself agreeing with R. Kelly- "I don't see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind".
Shortly after this we left and moved on to the Monkey cafe, where I drank Oranjeboom, which is a lot more fun to say than it is to drink. Busted out some old school moves on the dancefloor safe that in my drunken glow that I didn't care how much of an idiot I looked. I will never understand people who can dance publicily while sober, if I'm home alone I have to close my curtains just in case someone catches me busting a move.Was in an oddly confident mood, I think buoyed by being, by my standards at least, fairly smooth with Betty and Veronica and proceeded to talk to various women. Including a recent divorcee where I took my leave before outstaying my welcome, which is the most sense I've shown drunk I think.
Unfortunately another Oranjeboom or two later I fear I was slightly sleazy as I chatted to a larger lady I'd scoped out earlier and who I'd exchanged smiles with a couple of times. She had a tattoo on her left breast which gave me a legitimate reason to look at her chest and we chatted a bit, I even did some light groping and flirting, but then for some reason my drunken mind decided to switch focus to her sister, despite me finding the first girl hotter and having been getting on okay with her.
Her sister turned out to be in a relationship proving once again that I can really pick a winner while hammered. Of course, my redirection of affection meant that any shot I'd had with the first girl had evaporated and so I realised it was time to beat a retreat and went to the smoking area to cool off and people watch.
Llyw came and found me as everyone was ready to go and hadn't seen me in a while. It transpired I'd missed a bit of drama, which was probably just as well as if present I'd have said something I would've meant but regretted afterwards.
Taxi home with an apparently aggresive, dickhead cabbie but must confess was in a world of my own.
All in all it had been a good night, with me getting drunk, only making a minor dick of myself, getting to dance like noone was looking, and even being slightly smooth.
I paid for it on Sunday morning, tired, trembling and weak as a kitten, a situation exacerbated by the fact that we were out of tea, and a big mug of tea is integral to the hangover ritual.

Random Photo

Saved this a while back, for obvious reasons.TTFN

Dopey.

Life has an annoying trick of throwing up situations which hammer home just how stupid you are. I had one this week.
As some of you may know I smoke weed, now I'm not Cheech or Chong or anything but I do like to get stoned every now and then. I'd say probably every few months I'll have a couple of joints or something. Anyway, I recently got some pot because I'm heading out this weekend to celebrate my 26th birthday and I fancied getting a little buzzed before going to town.
Now to fully set the scene, I got it last weekend and popped it on the radiator next to my armchair. But the thing is my bathroom was out of action for the start of this week because some retiling needed to be done so I had to go stay with my parents for a few nights. Which was a bit of a drag, as I kind of like that here I can do my own thing, whereas at home I get told off if I drop a "shit" into conversation.
So I went home and didn't think about my weed until yesterday. I was told at work that they didn't need me tonight so I was given an extra day off, and a plan started to form.
A plan that involved me, the weed, a pack of Doritos and the Sons Of Anarchy boxset.Quick diversion now- my obsession with motorbikes has continued to grow and I am definitely going to try and do CBT (compulsory basic training) over the summer. I've never understood petrolheads and the way they drool over cars but recently I've caught myself checking out every bike I see and in some cases experiencing something akin to lust. I will get a bike.So getting home from work on Thursday I suddenly thought, where did I put the weed? I checked the most obvious place but it wasn't there. So I checked a few other, less obvious places that I may have put it.
Nada.
I'd lost 20 quid's worth of weed. Shit.
I asked Llyw if he'd moved it, but he was unaware that I'd had weed. A search began. I checked pockets in every jacket and pair of trousers I own. I checked ingenious hiding places that never would have occurred to me before.
I checked down the side of the armchair, under furniture, down the back of the radiator, under my mattress. The weed was nowhere to be seen.
Now this kind of stupidity while stoned would have been excusable, but I'd yet to open the stuff. Annoyingly, I seemed to be getting some of the less desirable cannabis effects- I was confused. And soon I was paranoid.
Had someone taken it?
The list of suspects was short- Llyw, Rich, Zoe, Hannah, the woman who did the plastering and my dad.
Llyw I eliminated early, he seemed genuinely infuriated by my stupidity and while I did suspect briefly that he had hidden it purely as a way of forcing me into doing tidying up I soon rejected this.
I asked Rich flat out. He may have taken it for safe keeping, or for a joke. But he said no.
I couldn't see Hannah or Zoe as real suspects as neither give out a stoner vibe.
The plasterer? A total unknown quantity, she could've done it.
My dad? Prime suspect.
I'm not saying my dad had stolen my stash so he could blaze up himself (he's recently given up smoking after 44 years so I doubt he'd smoke it, plus he's outgrown his weed phase and moved on to black tar heroin), no, but my dad is the kind of person who'd steal it for one of two reasons- (1) to teach me a lesson or (b) as a joke.
My parents popped round Thursday evening bearing custard slices and dropping off my birthday presents. I asked my dad if he'd seen anything on my radiator on Saturday when he'd picked me up. My dad asked "Like what?" in a way that made me suspicious, but I couldn't very well say "like a bad of weed". If he had taken it he'd have won and if he hadn't I would have let my parents know that I still do drugs, having previously made it sound as though I'd tried it at college once or twice and left it at that.
A connundrum. I decided to hold fire. I'd tidy my room, in the hope that it turned up.
It didn't.
Zoe had suggested that Llyw might have thrown it away by accident.
So those were the two most likely solutions to the mystery it was in the bin, or my dad had it.
This evening Llyw and I cut open our bin bag like we were Hooper and Brody trying to work out if the right shark had been caught and there, thankfully perched on the top of the rubbish and cancelling out the need to dig through refuse was my bag of weed.
A close call and a handy lesson- if you are going to indulge in illegal substances have a safe, designated place to keep them. Which I now do.
In a way I'm glad it was in the bin as while it doesn't exonerate me of my idiocy it at least means that Llyw is slightly culpable too and unable to hold it over me too much.

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You have to admit, its to the point.TTFN

Review: Pirates Of The Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

One of my most disappointing cinema-going experiences was back in 2003 when I went to see The Matrix Reloaded.
To put this in context I loved The Matrix, I'd seen one of the teaser posters on the back of an X-Men comic and had been intrigued, a trailer and massive coverage in Empire had further convinced me that this flick was going to rock. Unfortunately, I missed it in the cinema and only got to see it months after it came out when Stella Artois put on an outdoor show in Singleton Park.Now with all the hype the film could have fallen flat but it didn't. I was blown away, by the music (the start of my love for Rage Against The Machine), the effects and the performances, particularly Lawrence Fishburne and Hugo Weaving. Also, I'm a massive Keanu Reeves fan, hell, I even enjoyed The Lake House.
I got it on video and watched the thing until the sound warped and it skipped in places. It was, for a time, one of my favourite films and probably to this day ranks pretty high. So my friends and I eagerly awaited the sequels as the first film had ended with a tantalising hint of things to come. So on the day of release we headed to the UCI and took our seats, annoyingly in the front row, meaning stiff necks all round.
The film was awful. Overlong, with the quick dialogue of the first replaced with long drawn out speeches which were painfully dull and hard to follow, like they'd been transcribed from a philosophy student's essays. I got bored during a car chase. A car chase! I left the film dejected and so fed up never got round to watching the final part of the trilogy, Matrix Revolutions.
The Pirates Of The Caribbean series followed the same basic pattern- enjoyable first part, shit second part that put me off watching the final installment. Only with Pirates it turned out that the third part of the series wasn't the final installment.
Disney aren't quite ready to kill the golden goose yet and Johnny Depp seems to be having fun with it so it looks like we may even see the franchise reach 6 installments.
Depsite my dislike of the second film, Dead Man's Chest, on seeing the trailer for On Stranger Tides I was enthused. Jack Sparrow is a fantastic character, there was a Keith Richards cameo not to mention zombies, mermaids and the fountain of youth. It seemed as though the film was moving back to the first film in terms of tone and could stand by itself, unlike the second which felt like a blatant linking chapter.
It also helped that Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley had been cast aside. Don't get me wrong I liked their arc in the first film but when the film was over their story was as well, there was no need to bring them back, and in fact their return and Knightley's character's attraction to Jack kind of cheapened the first film's happy ending.
I suppose that's the risk of contractual obligation though, with actors tied in for a sequel before the plot is even in place and its decided if those characters actually need any further development. The worst offender of this is American Pie 2, which picks up the characters a year after graduation, which could've been quite good but is stymied by the fact that everybody is back, meaning they get shoehorned in with pointless subplots (Mena Suvari's phone sex scene was awful).
Anyway, back to Pirates 4. The plot follows Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) as he returns to London seeking a ship and trying to figure out why an impostor is hiring a crew. Jack runs into former flame Angelica (Penelope Cruz) who has been posing as him and is planning an expedition to find the fountain of youth, the location of which Jack apparently knows, although his map has been stolen by his friend Gibbs (Kevin McNally).Gibbs reluctantly joins forces with Jack's old enemy, the now one-legged Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush) who now serves in the navy. Also in the hunt are the Spanish.
Jack is drugged and discovers that he has been captured and put to work on Blackbeard's (Ian McShane) ship. Blackbeard controls his ship with magic and has a crew of prisoners and zombies. It transpires that Angelica is Blackbeard's daughter and seeks the fountain in order to save her father and give him a chance at redemption.
As the characters near their goal various subplots are revealed including a romance between imprisoned missionary Phillip (Sam Claflin) and Syrena (Astrid Berges-Frisbey) the mermaid Blackbeard has captured for use in the ritual needed at the fountain.
I can't go into more detail without giving spoilers, so here's my review:
I wasn't disappointed. While not quite as good as the first film, On Stranger Tides is a definite improvement on the 2nd and is an entertaining romp with a fast moving plot.
The film belongs to Depp, of course, and he clearly revels in Jack's swagger and eccentricites. His scenes with Cruz sparkle and Jack's realisation that he actually cares for Angelica is handled well and oddly touching, although the writers sensibly avoid cliche.
Perhaps the best on-screen partnership is between Sparrow and Barbossa, as the two pirates butt heads in a rivalry based on mutual respect, allowing Depp and Rush to share some of the film's funniest scenes.
McShane's Blackbeard is an interesting villain, the dark arts the character uses are done well and without the needless CGI that went into Bill Nighy's Davy Jones in the earlier films. He just looks badass, with an impressive cutlass and the smoking beard giving him a low-key, demonic look. Its also interesting to see Blackbeard with his daughter, as you're never sure just how much he cares for Angelica.
There are some nice touches in the film and the fight scenes are done well, but I've always loved a good sword fight so I may be a little biased.
A return to form and the ending is handled well, leaving a 5th outing for Captain Jack open but also allowing him a decent final appearance. 4/5

RIP Macho Man Randy Savage

Yesterday I found out that Macho Man had died. I was quite bummed about this, as Savage was one of my childhood icons. He was a phenomenal personality in wrestling and a brilliant entertainer. Skilled in the ring and captivating on the mic he was one of the all time greats. Its sad that another wrestling legend has gone before their time. In tribute I want to post this pic that I saw a while back and saved because I thought it was awesome:
TTFN

Comedy and Schadenfreude

Standing on the platform of Port Talbot train station on Tuesday evening I witnessed an event I had previously only ever seen on TV. Passing by was a real-life, actual big fat gypsy wedding.Yes, perched in a small carriage pulled by two white horses was a gypsy girl in a meringue-like wedding dress sustaining spinal damage from the mammoth tiara perched atop her head. Following the carriage was a stretch 4x4, ah the class!
I was at Port Talbot train station because I was heading to Cardiff to see a comedy gig. I was going with Llyw, Zoe and Hannah (for those who don't know who they are, my flatmate, his girlfriend and his sister). The four of us hang out a fair bit, dossing in the house, going to the pub and I feel we should get a dog to complete the Famous Five experience.
The train journey was uneventful and we arrived in Cardiff and wandered over to the St David's Centre, passing Krispy Kreme, deciding that after the show we'd stop off for some artery clogging delicacies.
We grabbed a pre-show pint and then took our seats, which were in about the 6th row, which is a pretty good position for a comedy gig, being close enough to the front without being so close you can get singled out.
The warm up act, who's name I can't remember, came out and started off shakily, however, after some stories about Tim Westwood he quickly found his feet and was pretty good.
At the interval I dashed for a piss and hot dog, and while walking back recognised a face in the crowd. It was Rhod Gilbert.
So, quite calmly I turned to Llyw and said: "That's Rhod Gilbert!" I'd meant to say it quietly, in a hushed tone but for some reason, my brain didn't engage my "inside voice" and it came out at normal volume. I was kind of tempted to go over and ask for an autograph but as he was in conversation with someone I decided to leave him to it.
I was also slightly afraid that he'd take the piss, as he's quite cutting to the people who e-mail into his Radio Wales show.
The act we'd gone to see was Greg Davies, performing his Firing Meatballs At A Dog tour. I'd previously seen Davies on Live At The Apollo and Mock The Week and thought he pretty good.But it didn't prepare me for the awesome show that was to come. The show is essentially Davies trying to tell his life story through a series of moments when he got lost in time by funny or odd events. The stories are brilliant and Davies tells stories of his time as a teacher and addresses school nicknames and how easily they are given and how hard they are to lose.
I laughed so much that at one point my face was physically hurting. The show is buoyed by Davies' manic energy (he doesn't just look like Rik Mayall, he also has the same kind of frantic delivery when worked up) and the fact that while he expresses anger about things its never in an overly nasty way. There are some brilliant gags and lines and even a few poigniant moments as well. I recommend you check out the show when its released on DVD. 4/5
After the show Krispy Kreme was closed, which meant Hannah blamed me as I'd assured that it would be open late at night. I refuse to take the blame for Mr Krispy-Kreme's shit business sense. I mean, you specialise in ridiculously sweet foodstuffs, surely drunk students are your bread and butter! Idiots.
Now, when we'd arranged to go to the gig 17th of May had just been another Tuesday night in my favourite month of the year (weather's usually good, 2 bank holidays and my birthday). However, it turned out that it was also the night that Cardiff City were playing the second leg of their playoff against Reading.
As a Swansea fan I was hoping that Cardiff would get a tuning, but as a pussy I didn't want to be stuck in Cardiff with a bunch of pissed off twats.
During the show Rich had been updating me and so turning on my phone as we left I discovered that Reading had thumped them 3-0. I was chuffed but made a decision that we wouldn't discuss football until we got nearer to home.
The train was rammed with dejected, embittered Cardiff fans.Now, for those who don't follow football this is the 3rd consecutive season where Cardiff have choked at the end of a season. In 2008-09 they slumped during the run-in for the end of the season and fell out of the playoff places. Last year they led twice but were still defeated 3-2 in the playoff final, and this year they stumbled towards the end of the season and then picked up this 3-0 defeat.
Its a total sign of mental weakness, an inability to act under pressure.
The Cardiff fans were miserable and whinged and I have to admit, I quite enjoyed their misery. Bwahahaha!
The reason for this is more than the fact that I'm a Swansea fan and therefore inclined to hate Cardiff, but also because a lot of their fans seem to be utter dickheads, and after Chelsea they have the most cuntish of teams. Hopefully the Swans can now beat Reading and become the first Welsh team to play in the Premier next season. Come on the Swans!
I also realised I'd be a shit superhero. If I'd have got bitten by that radioactive spider I wouldn't have heeded Uncle Ben's "With great power comes great responsibility" advice. If I'd had superpowers I'd probably walk into Cardiff centre and below "Who are we? Jack Army!" This made me realise that I'm probably more like Venom than Spidey, but I figure what's the point of having powers if you don't brawl now and then?

Random Picture

Someone tweeted this during the election and I meant to use it earlier as I think its some great unintentional sign comedy/genius, but for some reason my blogging has really fallen off this year.TTFN

Review: Insidious

A while back I reviewed Paranormal Activity, which creeped me out due to its low-fi chills and the power of suggestion. It also helped that I watched it on a night shift, and horror movies work best when you're already slightly frazzled and its dark out.
So I was kind of looking forward to Insidious, another horror movie from the same filmmakers, which had a very well done and intriguing trailer that suggested that another nerve-jangler was on the cards. Sure, there was the fact that it also trumpeted the fact that the film had been worked on by the makers of Saw, one of my least favourite film franchises ever.The film follows a family who have just moved into a new house. While exploring the attic their son, Dalton (Ty Simpkins) falls off a ladder and bumps his head but seems fine, only for them to be unable to wake him the next day. He's slipped into a coma-like state that has the doctors baffled.
Its around this point that the freaky stuff starts to happen. The mother, Renei (Rose Byrne) starts to hear and see some weird stuff and becomes convinced that there is something wrong with the house, but her husband, Josh (Patrick Wilson) is sceptical and starts to spend more time at work.
After a few ghostly encounters and general weirdness, Renei convinces Josh to move and they move to another house, however, here the oddness continues. They call in help from paranormal expert Elise (Lin Shaye) who sends her two comic relief assistants to investigate the case, and they prove that there is something going on.
Elise arrives and knows Josh from his childhood. She explains that it is not the house but Dalton himself who is haunted, having drifted off into the astral plane, thus leaving his body empty and attracting all kinds of malevolent spirits who want the body. It turns out that Josh had a similar problem as a child and is so sent into the astral plane to rescue his son.
And that's pretty much the plot.
Does the film work on a horror level? Not really. There are a fair few jumps, but there's no real creepiness built up and when they attempt to create some the film hamstrings itself by overegging the dramatic music and showing its cards far too early.
Also, a lot of the scares are easy to see coming. When Renei hears a creepy voice on the baby monitor and picks it up to listen you know as soon as she puts it to her ear its going to get louder. I still jumped, but it was pretty clear what was gonna happen.
A lot of the "twists" are like this, the fact that Josh may have a connection is telegraphed fairly early on and the concluding sting in the tale is so obvious that it can't really surprise anyone.
The best sequence is one of the more reserved ones, when a series of pictures from Josh's childhood reveal his own brush with the paranormal.
Tonally the film doesn't seem to know what to do with itself, Elise's comedy sidekicks don't seem to fit with the rest of the film and are more interesting than Renei and Josh. And the film tries to have it both ways, veering between sub-Paranormal Activity low key scares (doors slamming, odd noises) and the overdone ghosts and hyperactive scoring.
It doesn't help that when one of the demonic forces is revealed it looks a lot like Darth Maul. The other ghosts are revealed in a way reminiscent of House On Haunted Hill (1999 version) which is a film nobody needs reminding of.
The odd thing is despite showing too much early on, when the film switches to the astral plane its annoyingly tame. The other world looks a lot like this one, just with all the lights turned off and a smoke machine on the go. And despite Elise informing Josh that his life force makes him stronger all he does is shove one of the ghouls, and I found myself wishing that they'd gone for a more reality bending take with Josh using his thoughts to change the world around him to create a more surrealistic battle with the big bad.
All in all, a deeply unsatisfying experience. Never quite getting there in terms of scary and relying on cheap shocks, the plot is very predictable and there are far too many "I've seen this before moments" (along with those already mentioned I also saw similarities to Drag Me To Hell, Nightmare On Elm Street and Poltergeist). The ghosts are too cliched to really chill and the music is overly dramatic, the hammering piano clearly meant to show we're supposed to be scared, but really, we're not. 2/5.
Also, one last problem I had with the film- Who calls their kid Dalton? Seriously?! His brother is named Foster, which is almost as bad, but they could've gone all out for it and named the brother "Brosnan" and the baby sister "Lazenby".
Any thoughts? You know what to do. TTFN

Wacky Races

I regularly get lost in daydreams, plotting and planning in my head crazy schemes that usually go nowhere, although occasionally I do follow through on them (the Morocco trip was one of these) but today I think I excelled myself by coming up with two half-baked plans in the space of half an hour.
Now, one of my unspecified goals in life is to run a marathon, preferably before I turn 30 (just over 4 years to go, better get cracking) but its now been joined by 2 other races I want to take part in.
I still regularly fantasise about learning to ride a motorbike, partly as due to being a child of the 80s and a rock fan I have romantic ideals of bombing down the highway on two wheels.This morning I went online and watched one of Mark Kermode's blog entries, which was all about this new movie TT3D: Closer To The Edge. The film is a documentary about the Isle of Man TT race. Every year a horde of motorsport fans and competitors arrive on the tiny, otherwise pointless island for a race on the island's roads, which is widely regarded as one of the most dangerous races in the world.Watching Dr K talk about the film and watching the clips from the movie I suddenly thought, I wish I could do that. So if I do get my bike licence I'd be tempted to go over one year and have a go, as it would be a fairly cool experience and something interesting that I could talk about.
As an offshoot of this I looked up the Gumball 3000 rally which is a road race that covers 3000 miles, on regular, open roads. Every year the route changes but it'd be quite cool to enter this. Get a classic car, maybe an Impala or something:And get together a 2 or 3 man team to do the race. Again it'd be a hell of an experience and could throw up all kind of weird, funny stories.
So those are my two new dreams. Now all I have to do is learn to drive these machines, and get to the stage where I'm confident enough to enter the races. Better get cracking on them too.

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I have a new rule now.TTFN.