spazfarm

Rules for being in a relationship:

1) You have to wear clean pants EVERY day.
2) You cannot say things like “Christ! Look at the jugs on that!” any more.
3) You have to watch an endless torrent of the kind of stupid, shitty, boring, wanky films that all women are magnetically drawn to.

To be fair, although going to see My Super Ex-Girlfriend was my girlfriend’s idea, I can’t blame her entirely for it. Clearly, being a woman, she saw a film with the world “girlfriend” in the title and all her hormones immediately seized control of her higher brain functions, making her think: “Oooh, that sounds like a delightful romantic comedy, full of dismally un-funny jokes and all sorts of trite bullshit about relationships – I should force my boyfriend to watch it.”

But on the other hand, I should take about 5% of the blame for not having the good sense to veto the idea sooner - when I saw the trailer, in which a hot girl with super-powers throws a huge fucking shark at some guy’s head, I thought: “SPOOGIO!” So when she asked if I wanted to watch My Super Ex-Girlfriend, I just kind of went a long with it.

Anyway. The bit where Uma Thurman throws the Great White shark at the utterly forgettable lead male actor’s head is the ONLY good part of this film, the rest of it is unmitigated shit from beginning to end, you should probably go and see the thing with Jack Black about the Mexican wrestler instead. What kind of stupid fucking name is Uma anyway?

*wanky professional film critic mode on* Rainn Wilson, from the US version of The Office, makes a good effort in his supporting role, but he’s clearly wasted here and deserves a better platform for his talents. *wanky professional film critic mode off*

Finally, this is a little awkward, but we need to talk about Eddie Izzard. I know he’s great, and we all like him, and nobody wants to hurt his feelings, but for fucks sake, somebody has to tell him that he’s a really shitty actor before he makes an even bigger twat of himself.

Score 2/5

Shark Count: 1

Girl on Girl Action: Sort of, Uma has a bitch-fight with that blonde chick from Scary Movie. She’s pretty hot, but you don’t get to see any nipples because of all the high speed super-hero special effects.

Ninjas: 0

Whenever I see women on TV or in the newspapers these days they’re always blabbering on about g-spots and multiple orgasms and clitorises and bi-curious experimentation, but nobody ever seems to talk about the most important aspect of sex: how to satisfy your man. So, as my gift to the ladies out there, here are a few handy tips on how to be fantastic at intercoursual relations:

Talk Dirty
Nothing gets men in the mood like a little provocative language. Try:

By the Hammer of Thor, I demand satisfaction forthwith!

10 Print “Do me!”
20 Goto 10;

Dress Up
Try wearing something a little racy to liven things up a bit - we love a girl in uniform, so why not get dressed up as a train driver? Phwoar! And when you’re buying lingerie remember the golden rule: “Cheap hookers dress that way for a reason.”

Food-Play
We all know food can be sexy - so try turning your man on by doing an erotic dance with a bag of Doritos, or perhaps smother yourself in bbq sauce and croutons while you’re waiting for him to get home from work.

Be Adventurous
Men have narrow attention spans, we get bored of you very easily - so try experimenting with new things to keep us interested:

At random intervals during sex, shout out your favourite lines from classic British sitcoms: “DON’T MENTION THE WAR!”

Try doing the “I feel like chicken tonight!” dance as foreplay.

Men like to be challenged - only ever agree to sex if he can get a Triple Word Score in a game of Scrabble.

Forbidden Fruit
It’s more fun when it’s wrong - so try having sex while you listen to some copyrighted music that you illegally downloaded from the internet. Or tell him some insensitive jokes about spastics while you’re in bed together.

I went to see The Ringer because I thought I’d enjoy watching Johnny Knoxville scoring some cheap laughs off the mentally handicapped, but as it turned out the retards ended up being much funnier than him. Seriously, how badly do you have to suck to get upstaged by somebody with Downs Syndrome? In the film Knoxville pretends to be handicapped in order to win the special Olympics and raise some cash, along the way he discovers a deep respect for handicapped athletes and an even deeper respect for Katherine Heigl’s ass. Ultimately, this film is nothing more than a shitty, by the numbers romantic comedy, with cripples (which at least makes a nice change from Hugh Fucking Grant), but The Ringer did teach me two things: 1) Spastics are people too, and 2) Johnny Knoxville should have stuck to making Jackass. Sure, falling off skateboards and letting people throw things at his nuts must have been painful, but not as painful as his acting career.

Score: 3/10 (Two bonus points awarded because even though it’s a terrible film, handicapped people are just naturally funny).

Here is a list of things I would rather do before paying money to watch another Wachowski brothers film:

1) Drink a full carton of milk that has been left out in the sun for a couple of weeks.

2) Allow a Parkinson’s sufferer to perform plastic surgery on my face with a steak knife, whilst riding a rollercoaster.

3) Let Germaine Greer violently rape my arse with a strap-on dildo for hours on end while she screeches out passages from her best selling feminist blah, The Female Eunuch, at the top of her lungs.*

V for Vendetta paints a bleak picture of a futuristic Britain, populated by shitty American actors with comedy English accents. The storyline largely revolves around that guy who played Agent Smith in the Matrix dicking about in a cape and stupid mask for about 90 minutes, pausing only occasionally to stab somebody in the head or cop a feel of Natalie Portman’s stupendous ass which, to my mind, was the only good thing about this film. But mostly he spends the film chewing his way through the giant turd-burger of a script, spewing out horrible, painful dialogue in a hysterically over the top Shakespearean accent.

To distract you from the crappy acting and painful accents, the Wachowskis throw in a few pointless special effects every now and then at entirely inapropriate moments. Here’s a tip for Hollywood directors: Knife fights don’t need special effects - any scene where somebody gets stabbed repeatedly in the head is already awesome enough, you don’t need to mess with it.

If anybody tries to tell you how intelligent this film’s political commentary is, do us all a favour and kick them in the throat. The political subtext in V for Vendetta is about as subtle and incisive as a mound of rhino dung. Corrupt Fascist dictatorships are bad you say? And free societies are good? Fuck me, what a mind-blowingly radical ideology - excuse me a moment while I totally re-evaluate my world-view!

One final note: In the film, lead character V keeps Natalie Portman locked up in his basement for several months, subjecting her to physical and psychological torture in order to completely remove her fear of death, and because of this she falls in love with him. This annoyed me greatly, because I’ve tried the same technique with women several times and it never works.

Score 3/10

*Actually, I’m pretty much up for that regardless - it’s been a while.

SIR Ben Kingsley is the fucking man. Can’t find an Indian actor to do a good enough job of playing Gandhi? Not a problem, just give SIR Ben Kingsley a call. Want an unsettlingly realistic portrayal of a psychopathic cockney gangster? SIR Ben Kingsley can deliver the goods. Need somebody to play a New York Rabbi who also happens to be a ruthless crime lord in a marginally above average revenge thriller? SIR Ben Fucking Kingsley will nail that role like a bitch.

The only reason I went to see Lucky Number Slevin is because it had SIR Ben Kingsley in it. Not because I fancy him or anything. No. I like girls me. I tried to take a girl to the film, in fact, but she gave me some excuse about a freeholders meeting, so I went with Mike instead. This is probably for the best – even though Mike is a 20 stone heterosexual Scottish rugby player, I probably stand more chance of scoring with him than the girl in question. Not that I particularly want to score with Mike, I was just illustrating how unlikely it is that I’m going to get anywhere with this particular woman. If I did want to score with a man, I’d probably go for SIR Ben Kingsley, not Mike.

In Lucky Number Slevin, Bruce Willis helps Josh Hartnett exact bloody revenge on the two untouchable crime lords who murdered his parents while he was still a child. Oooh, hark at me: “exact bloody revenge” – don’t I sound just like a proper movie critic and everything. SIR Ben Kingsley plays one of the evil crime barons, and does a fucking good job of it too, while Morgan Freeman plays the other. This is ridiculously stupid. Morgan Freeman cannot play bad-guys, he’s just too damned nice – everybody wishes Morgan Freeman was their granddad. Maybe if he was my granddad I’d be able to dance a bit better. Is that racist? I don’t know.

Josh Hartnett gets to pork Lucy Liu who, instead of her normal bad-ass kung-fu babe role, plays the kind of cute, playful, quirky Asian girlfriend that all men secretly wish they had.* For most of the film she frolics around in a pair of knee length boots and one of those little tartan netball type skirts that we all love so much, then she gets shot but don’t worry, she doesn’t die – if you’re a hot girl you always get a happy ending, that’s just how movies real-life works.

Anyway, if Quentin Tarantino and Guy Ritchie had a baby, this is the kind of film it would make as its first effort. All the right ingredients are there, and it is entertaining enough, but it’s nowhere near as polished as you’d expect from a more accomplished director, it’s like a collection of good ideas and performances that doesn’t quite hang together as well as it should. I only paid £3 to see it, so SIR Ben Kingsley’s performance and Lucy Liu’s “I like it filthy and rough” smile were alone worth the price of the ticket. If you’ve got nothing better to do, go and see it - if you have got something better to do, fuck off you poser. I hate people like you, with your ‘active social life’ - I hope you die.

Score: 7/10

*Ladies, if your other half won’t admit to this, he’s just lying to protect your feelings.