Public Transport morons part 2

So, you're riding on a tram or bus on a comfortable seat.  At the next stop, more passengers board and one of them sits in the next row behind you.  You hear the rustle of a bag, perhaps a packet of food-stuffs being opened.

Then, it hits you.  The miasma, the malodorous stench emanating from the cavernous maw of your fellow traveller.  You hold your breath in a vain attempt to protect yourself but the reek is relentless, like waves on a beach, like The Terminator.  You look around but there's nowhere else to go, nowhere to move - you're boxed in.

But it doesn't end there.  Next comes the smell of food but you're confused as it's mixes into the scent of rotting flesh from the mouth of the person sitting behind you.

With each crunch and chew, you cringe as the bouquet of your favourite snacks is now indelibly linked to the horrific inescapable effluvium around you. Then you remember something else and grimace - smell is caused by molecules of the object in question, floating through the air.
It is that person's saliva, that person's food, that person's foul juices in your nose.

Welcome to public transport.  Enjoy your stay.

Goal 2: Living the Dream

I recently had the pleasure (or misfortune, depending on your opinion on football/soccer) of viewing Goal 2: Living the Dream. It also happens to be the sequel to Goal so, yes - the addition of the number 2 and subtitle isn't completely superfluous.

Goal 2: Living the Dream.

Plot: A bunch of dudes run around a field and kick a ball for 90 minutes. And they get paid a ridiculous amount of money to do it.

Review: Sports movies as dramas are generally failures - anyone would be hard-pressed to name more than a handful that were actually good, except maybe for martial arts movies (just don't say that out loud or a bunch of sport-hating ninjas will jump through your window and cut your head off). Good sport movies as comedies are much more common, for example, Dodgeball, Talledega Nights and Saw.
In the case of Goal 2, it's obvious that the producers knew that they couldn't possibly match the results of the aforementioned classics, so they made their own movie in the vein of Uwe Boll, film-maker extraordinaire, in the hopes of being so bad that it wrapped around the good-bad scale and ended up being good.

In Goal 2, Santiago is transferred to Real Madrid and rekindles his scandalous love-affair with Gavin Harris, his team-mate from Newcastle FC. Here are some shots of their time in Spain sharing loving glances, bathing each other in exotic fragrances and training together with the song, "Here Without You" by Three Doors Down playing in the background - who could have envisioned a more touching scene?

Goal 2, however, serves up more plot-twists in an effort to out-do even Empire Strikes Back. Santiago meets his long-lost family, including a little shit-kicker who steals his stuff and is generally a whiny little brat that was born to be hated by the entire world. Granted, Santiago is pretty stupid for letting some strange kid into his bad-ass Lambo just because of a picture of a woman who happened to look like his mother. Didn't the word "scam" ever cross his mind? Obviously not, at least until the point the little bastard ran off with his stuff.
The moral of the story - don't trust little impoverished kids when you're a super-rich mega-star. And hire better CGI animators who can actually do footballs.
So, how many ticket stubs would I give to watch this movie in a cinema again?
2 and a half - but they would be the shredded remains of Santiago's pre-marriage to that pasty pom.

Curse of the Golden Flower

So, it's been a while since I've done a movie review. With Movie Ticket Stubs being quiet for a while, I think it might be good to migrate over to a new medium - the amazing blog! So - on with the newest entry to the Amazing New Movie Ticket Stubs (without the stubs)!

The Curse of the Golden Flower (or how Chow Yun Fat is a dick)

Plot: Dudes in dresses prance around and sing songs in a comedy-classic!

Review: To say this movie was slow is an understatement - but once it got going, it was a roller-coaster ride of cool party-hats and crazy motherfuckers. That's right, party-hats. Check out the Princes of China; they're pretty cool. In fact, no one else in the movie wears party-hats because the Princes have a special dispensation for party-hats in China. And here's an added bonus picture of the afore-mentioned motherfucker. But moving on to what's important - my favourite part of the movie. Witnessing the power of the Chow!

As you can see, here's the youngest brat getting bitch-slapped by The Chow. That must be the proudest moment of any actor's career, although the character does also end up with the dubious honour of getting beaten to death by The Chow's golden belt but that's another matter for the Freudian students amongst us.
In fact, the whole movie is a bit of a Freudian paradise, with a sprinkling of Oedipus for taste, but I don't want to ruin it for those of you who haven't seen it. Just try not to think too much about where all the soldiers came from or where the fuck one would keep a bunch of giant, metal mobile walls in an Imperial Palace (probably in the Giant Metal Mobile Wall room).

So, how many ticket stubs would I give to watch this movie in a cinema again?
3 - but they would be the shattered remains of the cup from the incomprehensible ending to this shambles of a movie.

Republishing

How do I republish the blog without making a post?