Sunday, 25 January 2009

Why JJ Abrams Sucks

It started (although I didn't know it at the time) with Armageddon, a film from 1998 that sucked. It dealt with the subject of the earth being struck by a meteor, and it came out about 8 seconds after Deep Impact, which dealt with the same theme but was a much more interesting, sensitive, and well-thought-out film. 

JJ Abrams was a writer on Armageddon, from there on he made the TV series Alias, which featured Jennifer Garner looking like she was trying to suck milk out of a diamond, and then he went on to make Lost.

The next slew of episodes has just hit UK television, and it sucks. Now, I know I'm saying nothing new here, but here's the thing:



Thing is, I can PROVE THIS. 

Series One of Lost was one of the most exciting things ever. We all watched, chewing our knuckles, wondering what it all meant, what GENIUS masterplan was at work, what MONUMENT of televisual EXCELLENCE was being built on these EXHILARATING foundations?

And the answer is none. None monument. In series one, we had to endure the unending flashbacks to the characters' lives before they crash landed on the island. We sat patiently through them for the 90 seconds of gratifying plot advancement each episode afforded. 

And so it continued with Series Two. More mysteries! Lordy, it sure would be nice to have something explained, or some mystery revealed at some point, but gosh darn it, it's all so exciting!

Then JJ Abrams started making Cloverfield, and then we realised he was a fucking liar and a bullshit merchant and a substanceless piece of sucky fuck. Don't believe me? Click on this link and watch:

(Incidentally, don't let it put you off, which is one of my favourite websites)

And there it all is. Let me save you the precious minutes of humanity - I'll paraphrase his little talk. What he basically says is "I think it's way more exciting when you don't get to find out what's going on. And Macs are way cool." 

Oh, SUPER. Well, sorry, but isn't that part of the contract between the creator and the audience? We agree to watch your film or TV show or read your book, and you promise to give us some kind of fucking payoff.

Around Cloverfield time, Lost started doing flash... forwards, instead of flashbacks. A fantastic move, that suddenly made the time on the island, formerly the exciting part, the boring part. And in fact, we all started not to care about any of it, because nobody was really telling us anything about anything anymore. 

And this evening's episode, after a year's hiatus, is the most incomprehensible mess of bollocks I have ever seen. At any given time you don't know if you're watching a flashback, a flashforwards, a 'time-loop' on the island, or the delusions of Hurley, the mentally-disturbed fat guy, who must surely be on danger money for maintaining that weight for so many years. Dude, just looking at him makes me feel a little... Hurley.

The whole thing smacks of a play mounted by two six-year-olds who are frantically trying to raise the stakes as they sense the endgame of bedtime approaching:

"And, then, er, and then, a THING comes out of the trees and it's made of SMOKE!"

"No, come on JJ, it's bedtime, isn't it...?"

"No, and then... And THEN! They discover they are travelling in TIME!" (Starts bouncing on sofa.)

"Come on JJ... Teeth"

"But, no, and then, then, one of them's DEAD but he's not!" (Leaps off sofa.)

"Teeth and bed."

"No, TWO of them!" (Smashes into brand new DAB radio with iPod dock.)

"Right. That's it."

Getting into a mess is a piece of cake. Getting back out of it without losing your audience is the hard part. JJ Abrams, you SUCKY PIECE OF COCKING SHAFT. 

Oh, and isn't it awful what's going on in the Middle East.

Monday, 19 January 2009

It's Officially the Saddest Day of the Year

Another one of those official-but-pointless press releases.

Now look.

There’s plenty to be unhappy about. God knows we’re all facing those foul little squirts of adrenalin with the credit crunch, and this morning it seems Britain has been hit by a water cannon, but come on.

You could be living in the hottest part of the world, where people every day have to walk a 30-mile round trip to fetch their water in sweltering heat, and when the water comes out of the ground, it is literally boiling.

You could be George W Bush, about to give way to someone approximately 8 billion times more popular than you – no money is worth that, dude.

You could be an animal – would you like to spend your life as a dung beetle? I would, actually, but I’m a bit weird like that.
Or you could be a patient awaiting dentistry in the 18th Century. That was not fun.

And if you really want to widen the frame on the luckiness thing:

Arthur C Clarke said we are nothing but chemicals risen to consciousness, so be grateful that the chemicals that make up you aren’t currently being used as a swamp, or a cow pat, or a lamp, or spinning through the vast, cold vacuum of space as a lifeless comet, or Gary Bushell’s Beard, getting covered in bits of egg and venom.

So come on, brace up, let’s make the best of it. It’s really not so bad. Have a good day.