On Screen Pointless

Hello again, The BBC. It's me, Rob. I recently contacted you complain about you sticking "Coming Next" banners over the last few minutes of programmes I was watching. If you can't remember, you can go read my original complaint, and your reply, here.

I'll be honest... your reply did not really satisfy me. It didn't really feel like you paid much attention to what I'd said. In fact, it felt like you took only the most cursory glance at  my complaint and then sent out an impersonal, standard reply, dismissing me like you might a spaniel, or a medieval serf. Well. Much as I love you, The BBC, and support you vigorously on a constant basis, I feel you have let me down here. Leaving me with trust issues. BBC Trust issues, if you will.

Luckily for me, you have given me the option to take my complaint further, if I am not satisfied. I can only assume this is some kind of 'weeding out' process, designed to filter out less persistent complaints and see who is really determined to have a moan even when faced with your blank indifference. Having considered the kind of compaints you do respond to, perhaps I should have said something like this:


Dear The BBC

I never watch any of your channels, but the Daily Mail told me that you are a bunch of bastards, and I, for one, am outraged. Apparently one of your programmes offended their journalists in some way, and even though I haven't seen it I would like you to crawl on the floor in repentance and never do it again. Whatever it was.

yours idiotically

A. Moron


I've seen the results of these letters before. You love apologising to those guys. You apologise and apologise, make good people resign for no reason,  and then you institute blunt, idiotic changes to the editorial freedoms of your staff. Because for some reason an irritated, ill informed attack on something that doesn't matter sends you all into spirals of panic and self doubt. But heaven forbid you actually listen to someone who is upset at the quality of the viewing experience itself. No. They can have a standard, impersonal response that does nothing but justify your own pre-existing policy and utterly ignore everything they have said.

Well, not good enough. I have a couple of issues with your response. Here they are. Please read them this time.

1. "We have duty to let the audience know about the choices available..."

Let's assume this is true, and you do see this as a service rather than, say, advertising. Here are some ways people can find out about your programmes:

Any newspaper
The Radio Times
Any other television listing magazine
Literally dozens of sites on the internet
Announcements between programmes
Announcements over the end credits of programmes
Phoning up the BBC (apparently)
Electronic Programme Guides
Waiting until it is on and saying "Oh! I like this!"
Watching it on iPlayer if you miss it anyway

All methods, you'll notice, which don't intrude on the actual act of watching the programme itself. Which, of course, is the only reason to advertise the bloody thing in the first place.

I think this offers a sufficient range of opportunities for finding out what is on telly next. I don't think you need to fret about your duty not being done. In fact, I'd say that if people can't work out what is on after being given all these opportunities, they are probably too stupid to understand television, and probably use theirs as an altar for sacrificing chickens.

 2. Our research suggests...

"The feedback we received is positive regarding the enjoyment levels of our trails. The results show that trails found to be entertaining and informative are generally high."


 I'm going to come right out and say that I don't believe this, at all. You are saying that these specific bits of advertising -'in programme pointers' you call them - are appreciated by more viewers than they annoy? Really?

Hmm. Actually, you're not quite saying that, are you? You say your research 'suggests' this. Suggests... Shall I tell you what this 'suggests' to me? It suggests that you have taken some very broad research about trailers in general, and applied it unscientifically to this particular issue. I think you had a survey that went something like this:

Do you find trailers on the BBC:

a) brilliant and useful
b) pretty good
c) not too bad - certainly better than being sick

And people have thought about trailers - you know, like the lovely one at Christmas with David Jason or the brilliant 'Bring Me Sunshine" one from last year- and thought "Yeah! They're excellent! Much better than being sick!" And they've all given you really positive feedback.

And then you've applied these vague and positively-weighted results to the justification of all your advertising - including the horrible, irritating On Screen rubbish you insist on sticking over the end of programmes. I mean, please correct me if I'm way off on this. If you can direct me to the specific research that you have done - research on the subject of 'on screen pointers' that has options ranging from "I find on-screen pointers useful" to "I think on-screen pointers are cultural vandalism, they make me want to puke, I hate them, arg, arg, the misery!" - if you can show me that research, and it proves your case, I will believe you.

But I don't think you can. So I won't.

I think this is self serving, meaningless nonsense, using nebulous 'research' to justify decisions that have already been made for commercial reasons. You want to talk about duty? You have a duty to provide quality programming - a duty that exceeds any invented requirement to inform people of what's on in five minutes time. You want to talk about audience feedback? Let's see a response to this complaint that mirrors your reaction when someone whips up a tabloid frenzy about a swear word they thought they heard.

I love you, The BBC. You are important, and artistic, and clever and bold. If you were a woman I would try to get you drunk. If you were a man I would try to impress you by doing the 'Funny how?' monologue from Goodfellas. As it is, you are a creative enterprise and so I want to encourage you to be better.

Be better. Get rid of these on screen pointers. Do it now.

Have patience. Now!

Dear The BBC

Re: Him and Her - your recent sort-of sit-com about a young couple sharing a flat, and never leaving it, and occasionally having some weird friends come over and eat their biscuits.

I really liked it. Thank you for making it.

I wasn't sure about it at first - it's strange and sort of uncomfortable in its depiction of some quite spiky people and situations. It takes time to get into the rhythm of the show and appreciate the characters. But as I have warmed to Him and Her, it has sort of unfurled beautifully before my eyes - a peculiar and unique little creation, full of new, subtle flavours. And really, really funny.

So thank you.

But. Here's a thing I didn't like about it.

No, not Becky's semi-fascist, idiot sister Laura. She is annoying - with her tendency to put others down to make herself seem better, and her inability to see importance in any conversation not centred on her upcoming wedding, and her stupid hair. She's not the thing I didn't like. I wouldn't want to know her, but she's a great comedy character.

And it's not the fact that every episode takes place entirely within the flat. I think that's kind of smart, and well used as a premise. Plus, it's thrifty use of the license fee, so well done there.

And I don't have a problem with the fact that Him and Her is hard to warm to. One of the best things about you, The BBC, is that you give programmes time and space to find an audience, and develop slowly and naturally. Many wonderful television programmes, films and albums have failed to grab audiences straight away, only to flourish as time has allowed them to mature, and allowed people to recognise their strange new beauty. Your faith in the creative process is one of your great strengths, and what keeps you consistently producing some of the best television ever seen.

No, all of these things are fine, and in fact brilliant.

My problem is this:

"Coming Next: Family Guy."

Right at the climax of the episode, where we have been heading all this time, right at the point where things come to a head, when themes characters and plot lines converge - when I am as involved in the story of these people as I am ever going to be. A huge computer generated graphic splats itself across the bottom of the screen, while the programme I'm trying to watch is still bloody happening.

"Coming Next: Family Guy."

What. In the name. Of fuck. Is this? This massive green slab of intrusive advertising, scrolling across my screen, rolling over the work of the writer, production crew and actors just as they are delivering their finest moments? This enemy of art and beauty, smashing into a shared moment, desperate for attention no matter how inappropriate, how stupid. Like a dickhead in the audience for Hamlet, loudly phoning for a taxi during the death scene. Yeah, we're nearly done now. More or less over. May as well move on to the next thing.

What, The BBC, are you thinking?

What were you thinking?

I know what you were thinking.

You were thinking "In this multi-channel age, where viewers have a multiplicity of other options which might distract them from continuing to watch BBC3, we need to make sure they stick with us, all night, and indeed forever, until they die."

Or, as you will put it to people who complain:

"Many viewers appreciate knowing what is coming up next, as it helps them plan their viewing for the coming evening..."

To which I can only say, no they bloody don't. Everyone in the known universe now gets their television through some kind of digital box. And all they have to do is press a button, and up pops a list of what's on next, on whatever channel they want. Did you know about this, The BBC? It's called an EPG - electronic programme guide. The answer is, yes, you did know about it - you often retitle programmes so they work better when put onto the EPG. Nobody needs a slogan to come up at the end of their favourite programme, ruining it by telling them what is on next. And you know that.

But let us, for a moment, assume that I do not know how to use my on screen guide to find out what's on next. Maybe I'm a piece of toast, or an albatross or some kind of neanderthal, and I don't understand how to work the magic box in front of me. I've stared in black incomprehension at the moving colours and shapes, and I'm just about on the verge of turning it off. Which would be a tragedy, of course, because then I'd miss Family Guy.

Then, to my delight, a little splodge of green vomit unrolls across the screen and shouts "Hey, you! You piece of toast, or albatross maybe! Don't turn off - there's a show on next that's perfect for you!" Phew! Nearly missed out there! Thanks, The BBC!

Except, of course, just as Family Guy is finishing, and I'm chuckling happily to myself at the surreal world I've been allowed into, what happens? That's right. Another bastard banner rolls over the screen to let me know that "Coming up: More Family Guy!" And now, even though I've enjoyed watching this, I'm not looking forward to the next one. Because I know that however funny the next episode is, however cleverly crafted the script and inventive the visuals, I will never be quite immersed in it because I will be constantly, subconsciously waiting for the moment that the illusion is ruined by your next banner. And the next one. A never ending stream of panicky self promotion that cannot be happy in the present, but has to run headlong into the future like a hyperactive toddler.

As Yoda once said, before he sold out and started advertising phone companies, "Always looking to the future. Never his mind on where he is."

So, basically, stop doing it. It serves no function, no-one wants it and it is a fundamental cheapening of the very art form you exist to distribute. You're better than this, The BBC.

(And while we're here, get rid of the 'BBC HD' logo on the HD channel. The entire point of watching HD is that is looks better. Sticking a label in the corner makes it look worse. Also, what's with credit squeezing? Have you no standards? Good grief. And make another series of The Fades. And get me some biscuits!)

Review: Films part 4. The really, really good ones

And so it was Christmas, and what have you done? I'll tell you what you haven't done - watched enough films. Films are ace. Here are my favourites of 2011.


I have not included the Jan-Feb Oscar run, as I went on about them at length during Oscar season. As I remember, I really liked The King's Speech and Black Swan, and probably The Fighter. But it's all so long ago, and I was so much younger.

Anyway. 2011.

Source Code

Certainly not Quantum Leap. Don't say it is!

Duncan 'Moon' Jones's second feature is a slick high-concept sci-fi premise that goes as follows:  Jake "Donnie Darko" Gyllenhall wakes up on a train, not knowing who he is. Someone spills stuff on his shoes, he meets a pretty girl, the train explodes. Good start, huh?

Well. Then he wakes up again, except this time he's in what looks like the loading level from an X-Box game. Now I think about it, Gyllenhall is often waking up in his films. The first time we see him in Donnie Darko he's waking up on a golf course. And I'm pretty sure he does it in Brokeback Mountain too, after a warm, cuddly night with the Joker. Obviously it's something he does quite well, and maybe that's why he gets cast.

Either way, Jake spends most of the film waking up either on his train - where he always gets stuff on his shoes and the train always explodes - or in his XBox room, where people explain the plot to him. And the plot is this.

A bad terrorist blew up the train with a bomb, and this same guy has an even bigger bomb which he is going to use to blow up everything else. Luckily, a machine exists - the Source Code - which can send Jake back into the mind of a guy who was on the train, so he can relive the last 8 minutes of the train's journey, and try to find out who the bomber was. If that last bit doesn't make sense to you, don't worry, because a) it doesn't make any sense, at all, to anyone, b) you can enjoy the film without it making sense.

What follows is a Groundhog Day-esque repetition of the last 8 minutes of the train ride, as Jake constantly replays the scenario and tries a variety of methods to find out who the bomber is, all the while falling slowly in love with the pretty girl and constantly getting stuff on his shoes. Like Groundhog Day, the re-use of events is witty and inventive, playing fast and loose with action movie conventions while nibbling at some wider themes. As in  Moon there is a challenge to the notion of unique personal identity, with a few questions about ethics, science and destiny thrown in for free.

Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll

Don't know if this was 2011 or 2010, but I only just saw it, so you're going to have to live with it.

This is a great film. There are lots of reasons why - fascinating subject matter in Ian Dury, great soundtrack, confident and stylish directing - but the main one is Andy Serkis.

You know Andy Serkis, of course. He was in 24 Hour Party People, but no-one has ever seen that, even though they should have. More famously, he plays every CGI creation you've ever seen in a film, ever. Gollum in Lord of the Rings, obviously, and King Kong. And, more recently, Caesar in the recent Rise of the Planet of the Apes. And probably Optimus Prime, and the snow in The Day After Tomorrow, and Alderaan exploding in Star Wars. There's no limit to his talents.

Anyway. In this, he plays Ian Dury. Who, apparently, was a very clever and talented man, but also a giant pain in backside if you had to spend any time with him. This, to me, is one of the joys of film. Spending time with characters who, in real life, you would hide from when they knocked on the door. It's much easier to appreciate their entertainment value when you are separated by a screen, and you can pause the buggers and run away for a bit.

I don't know how accurate this is as a portayal of the man himself, but it's certainly a very entertaining and intelligent film, and the soundtrack is unbeatable.

X-Men First Class

Prequels are almost always a bad idea. If a story has an interesting, mysterious background, the worst thing you can do is go rooting around in it. You risk demistifying the beauty of a distant story, cheapening it with the mundanity of actors and effects and mediocre scriptwriting. The uber-example of this is, of course, the Star Wars prequels, where the time of the Clone Wars - a gorgeous, evocative idea that permeated my childhood imaginings with its unknowable majesty - was rendered as some bad actors running up and down against a greenscreen fighting cartoon wankers.

However, however, however. Not so X-Men First Class. It's got a pretty good script, full of economical characterisation and fun ideas. OK, there are a couple of by-the-numbers sequences where teenagers learn they have the power of rendering CGI effects in real time. But for the most part, it is an intelligent and engaging telling of the myth.

The best thing about the film is actually two things, and those things are James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender. Playing the young Professor X and Magneto respectively, the two actors pull of the Christopher-Reeve like trick of both taking the roles seriously and enjoying themselves tremendously. I would have happily spent more time with both these guys and their interesting, multi-faceted friendship.

Rise of the Planet of the Apes

When I saw the first trailer for this film I was all "Man, this looks like it will suck! And not in a pleasurable way." It seemed like a heavy handed, blockbuster-brained smashing to pieces of yet another classic film.

I'm happy to say I was wronger than wrong. ROTPOTA is a thrilling, brilliant film with a well articulated range of ideas, exciting set pieces and that incredibly rare thing: a set up for a sequel that makes you actually look forward to the prospect.

The narrative is driven by the plight of Caesar, the genetically modified ape who inspires the titular Rise. The genius of the film is to make this character not just a threat and a monster, but a beautiful, sad, lost creature who is given glimpses of love, acceptance and family, and then cruelly denied them. Caesar is a near perfect combination of state of the art CGI and a great performace by Andy Serkis, and the scenes where he is central are compelling and often heartbreaking.

Also fun is the bit where he fights the guy played by Tom Felton, because you can pretend it is Draco Malfoy fighting Ian Dury. Now there's a film.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy

Things your brain will say during this film:

"Ooh - this is clever."

"What just happened then? Was that important?"

"God, the seventies were horrible. I hope I never get sent through a time vortex and trapped there."

"Hang on... I though he was dead?"

"How old is Gary Oldman now? Is that really good make up, or is he actually really old now? I suppose he must be quite old. Or do I just think that because of his name?"

"Oh good, here's Sherlock. He'll sort it out."

"Why are any of these people doing any of these things?"

"Ah! He is dead. It's a flashback!"

"Oh. No, it isn't. he's not dead. What?"

"Look out Sherlock - it's Bronson! Run!"

"I honestly have no idea what is going on."

"Are these guys gay? Or is that a spy thing?"

"This is brilliant. But I'm not entirely sure why..."

Contagion

Wasn't expecting to like this much - it looked a bit generic. Virus starts making people die. Scientists try to find out how to stop it. Government people look serious and consider increasingly serious 'options'. Ordinary people run around going "Aaaaarrrgg!" and then fall over with blood coming out of their mouths.

To be honest, there's little in the film to surprise you. What we have here is a strong story, well told by an excellent director (Steven Soderbergh) with a cast of excitingly famous people, some of whom die horribly. It's properly scary, and will make you realise how often you touch a) things other people have touched and b) your face.

What makes this so good, I think, is that it knows what kind of film it is. We don't spend much time with the individual characters, all of whom just exist to show us the way the virus affects different parts of society. We don't get any big reveals plotwise, or learn huge new truths. We just get a gripping, powerfully told account of something that could happen, and a terrifying glimpse of what it would be like if it did.

That'll do.

Tangled

Gorgeous, funny Disney updating of Rapunzel which has a) a great title, b) stunning visuals and c) an amusing horse. I liked it, and so will you. Unless you have no soul. Or hate horses.

And so, to the number one film of the year. And I'm not quite sure why I love this film so much, so please be patient while I try to unravel the beauty of...


Drive

Right. I don't know how to say why I like this film. And I don't know if you'll like it as much as I do, you see. Some people I know loved it. Some hated it. Also, I don't want to give too much away, as there are some interesting moments that made us all go "Urk!" when they happened, and I wouldn't want to spoil that. So. What is it like?

Right.

Imagine an ice cream, lit by tiny beautiful spotlights. Rotating. Now, that ice cream looks really tasty. In a subtle, elegant, made-with-real-cream kind of way. It's got a dark cone that offsets the brilliant white of the cream. And it wears a flake. Man, I mean, it really wears that flake! Like, even though you really want to eat the flake, you also don't want to take it out of the ice cream.

But it is an ice cream, and it's for eating, so let's have a taste. Mmm! That's smooth. Smoother than I was expecting. Too smooth? Maybe. It was almost kind of frictionless, more like the idea of eating an ice cream. Am I enjoying eating this? I think so. Maybe a little bit of that flake. Oh my goodness, that's gorgeous! Yeah, yeah - I am enjoying this...

What the hell was that!?!

Well, I wasn't expecting to taste... whatever I just tasted! It's all... good grief. My mouth. Is that a nice taste? It's certainly the only thing I'll be able to taste for a while.

Bloody hell.

But also...

Wow...

Yeah. Alright. So my mouth is kind of numb from the cold now, and little pink lights are dancing in front of my eyes because I might have brain freeze... and yes, this is an ice cream but also no, it's not...

And now I'm scared of flakes.

So there you go. I hope you feel enlightened. If you or anyone you know has been affected by the issues raised in this review, I suggest you put the kettle on and make a) a cup of tea and b) a hot water bottle.

Sweet dreams.

Review: Films part 3: Good

Part three of my round up of the year. Parts one and two can be found here and here.

I've seen a bunch of good films this year. Here they are. They're not the all conquering kings of the landscape, but they were all very entertaining, and if you bought them for me on BluRay, I would not have to feign gratitude.

The Adjustment Bureau

Matt Damon's life is being manipulated! By men with hats! And there's a girl he fancies. But has that been manipulated too?

A snappy, clever film with a great lead performance from Damon, who is slowly proving himself to be one of the most capable and interesting stars of his generation. The central conceit, which lives somewhere between conspiracy thriller and pure sci-fi, is confident enough to never feel the need to explain itself. It's basically an exciting romp with some great ideas behind it, and plenty of neat visual moments. And some ace hats.

Captain America

Remember when you came out from seeing Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull? Remember how angry you were? All the action-adventure of the original Jones films reduced to CGI nonsense and lame plotting and some monkeys? Well, Captain America is here to make things better. This is an unapologetically straightforward romp through a universe both cartoonish and believable. It's the same world Dr. Jones used to inhabit - authentically grimy and real, with characters who live and breathe, yet populated by fantastic and implausible events that swing just around the edge of "Oh come on!" before landing gracefully on the side of "Yeah! Go on then!"

If you've seen the trailer you've seen the plot: weedy wannabe soldier gets genetically enhanced to go fight the bad guys. Explosions ensue. There are some terrific set pieces, well choreographed and with a smart visual eye: bombs destined for the USA's major cities have the names of said cities printed on them in huge, Wile E Coyote print, while Hugo Weaving's villain, the Red Skull, feels like a real guy, albeit one you would vomit on.

Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Part Two

Last Christmas I was bought the Harry Potter books and I read them all for the first time. I was surprised how good they were, and found myself most absorbed, often forgetting to eat, bathe or, in extreme cases, go to the shops for more alcohol and porn. Thus, when I emerged from the final book, bearded and semi-feral, I was more than ready for the cinematic release of HP7.2. This time I had an advantage that had eluded me during the other instalments: I knew what on earth was going on.

I'm sure the various screenwriters and directors did their best to condense the massive amounts of story in the books into commercial films, and given the limitations of the form, I think they did pretty well. But it must be said, watching some of the films without the benefit of reading the source material did often leave me going, "What? Who? What? Whyyyyyy?" The culmination of this came at the end of The Half Blood Prince when Hans Gruber from Die Hard swoops his cloak around him and reveals that yes, he is the eponymous Prince! And everyone just sort of looks at him, and he looks at them, and it's all a bit uncomfortable, and then everyone walks off to have their tea. And I sat in my seat going, "Whuuurrrrr...?"

Anyway, I knew what was going on this time, and it was very good, and the battles were quite thrilling. I still haven't got a clue, though, what all that business with the wands is about, at the end. You know, when Harry fights the evil nazi from Schindler's List and somehow their wands do a thing, and that means everything explodes in a way that pleases the heroes, and annoys Ralph Fiennes. I've re-read that bit in the book lots of times, and had people try to explain it to me, and there's even a bit in the film where Ron and Hermione go to Harry and say "So what was all that stuff with the wands?" because they don't understand either, and Harry tries to explain. But I still don't really get it.

Liked the film though.

Tree of Life

This was very beautiful, and dreamy, and had dinosaurs in it. It was probably too long, and I was very hungry by the end, but I felt like I was having an experience, even though I'm not entirely sure what it was.

Super 8

A deliberate attempt to recreate ealry 80s Spielbergian wonder, which, for the most part succeeds. Good performances from the kids and a palpable sense of time and place make this a beautiful two hours. In fact, it may deserve a higher place than I'm giving it, but two things stop it being perfect:

a) While not wanting to spoil the ending, it does seem to me that if none of the main characters had done any of the things they did, and had instead just sat and played Connect Four, then the plot would have worked out almost exactly the same as it did when they ran around screaming and having adventures.

b) There were two annoying bastards down at the front of the cinema wittering away and playing on ther phones through the first twenty minutes or so. I kept hoping they would stop, but they didn't, and I became near homicidal with irritation. Ultimately I was consumed with anger and stormed down to the front to be all Yorkshire and cross on them. To my pleasure, they did as I asked and shut the fuck up. However, I was by this point unable to regain my child like sense of wonder.

There are more, but I feel I have gone on somewhat, so here, briefly, are the other films I enjoyed quite a bit:

Limitless

Special pill makes man brilliant at everything. Man is, however, still a man, so does his best to cock things up. Starring the ghost of Robert DeNiro's charm.

Inbetweeners

Young men in 21st Century Britain go on holiday and say 'clunge' a lot, as funny TV show charges onto cinema screen and defies expectations by being just as good. For my thoughts on it, see this post.

Made in Dagenham

Girls in 1960s Britain are told they are rubbish. Girls swear a lot, and win the right to be Prime Minister and host daytime TV chat shows.

Another Year

Old people in 21st Century Britain have tea and uncomfortable conversations for a whole year.

NEDS

Young man in 1970s Britain become thuggish due to a) social pressure and b) him being a bit of a cock. Then gets less thuggish. Then gets more thuggish again. Then has a fight with Jesus. Then is nearly eaten by lions. Possibly.

Attack the Block

Young people in 21st Century Britain fight aliens, in the 'hood.

See you next time for the best films of the year. Bring snacks.

Review: Films part 2: ones that were OK.

Christmas inches ever closer, like a timid kitten, or a glacier, or death. And with it comes a thing of spectral wonder: part two of my indispensible guide to how good some things were compared to some other things in 2011.

In part one (found here) I told Clint Eastwood's Hereafter to go and sit in a corner and have a long, hard think about what it had done. Part two's films are not as rubbish as that utter waste of space, and should you spend your time with one of them you'll probably go, "Hmm. Yeah. That was OK." But that's all you'll think. You won't buy a cool T-Shirt featuring iconic images from the film, or be compelled to re-enact key scenes with your friends, or force a future romantic partner to watch it as part of a complicated series of tests to see if she is worthy of your time.

Here are the films that, this year, were merely 'OK'.

Unknown

Liam Neeson runs around, wondering who he is and getting increasingly cross when no-one will tell him. He thinks he is Liam Neeson, obviously, but then he has a car accident, and then everyone says "No - you're not Liam Neeson. This other guy is." Except they don't call him Liam Neeson, they call him whatever the character is called. I can't remember what the character is called, and neither can I be bothered to check on IMDB. If you care so much, you go check. It doesn't matter, though, because the only thing we care about is that this is Liam Neeson, and we all really enjoyed watching him in Taken, killing everyone in France, and we're hoping this will be similar.

Anyway, so, Liam Neeson isn't Liam Neeson. There's this other guy doing Liam Neeson's job and going out with Liam Neeson's wife, and generally pretending to be Liam Neeson even though he isn't Liam Neeson, he's this other guy. So Real Liam Neeson gets all cross, and does some top level shouting and hitting things, and it's all quite exciting, and has a pretty clever plot. Although everyone but me says they worked out what was going on really quickly, which means either a) I'm thick or b) they're a bunch of liars.

Cowboys and Aliens

What's up with Harrison Ford? In the 80s he was the single coolest thing in cinema, inhabiting Han Solo, Rick Deckard, John Book and Indiana Jones. He made every boy want to run around shooting stormtroopers, or fighting nazis, or chasing replicants, or erecting a large barn with some Amish people in a symbolic act of communal strength. He was great at playing action heroes, imbuing each role with wry, intelligent humour and real film star presence. And then... nothing. A bunch of insipid romantic leads that failed to turn him into Cary Grant and instead left him looking like someone's grouchy dad who has wandered on screen by mistake.

Don't get me wrong, Ford's contribution to the films of my childhood earns him love and respect forever, no matter what he does in future. But it's just really annoying to see him now, seemingly unable to enjoy playing at pretend like he used to. Did you see that horrible 'Red Carpet' interview they kept showing in the run up to Cowboys and Aliens? Ford stares at the interviewer, clearly wishing he was somewhere else having a sandwich or patting a horse or something, and says nonsense like, "It's a really interesting... entertainment... there's a lot of... action..." Really Han Solo? Is that what it will be? An interesting entertainment? That's not even a bloody sentence!  You can type that shit, Harrison, but you can't say it.

Despite Ford's ungrammatical assertions, The film is not that interesting, and only sporadically entertaining. Some aliens come to steal some gold, and some cowboys shoot at them with guns for a bit, and there's a lot of noise. It's kind of enjoyable, but takes itself far too seriously for such a daft premise, and thus ends up leaving you feeling a bit 'meh.' It should have either gone Evil Dead 2 bonkers, which would have been silly and fun, or headed the other way and been Robocop hard-as-nails, with gore and nudity and unbelievable violence. As it is, it's just... alright.

Fright Night

3D is good for one thing, I have decided. It is good for little fiery cinders, floating around in the air after a vampire explodes. When it comes to depicting the frazzled aftermath of a staking, 3D is your man, creating beautiful, fascinating visuals that really help you understand what it might be like to stand in the middle of a cloud of ashes that used to be an evil bloodsucker from hell.

But that's it, for 3D. The rest of the time it is a massive distraction that utterly takes the viewer out of the story and, frankly looks crap. Ironic, given all the wittering about how immersive 3D is, that the overall effect is to distance the spectator from the image, making it far less real.

Fright Night actually has a lot going for it, not least a couple of great performances from David Tennant and Colin Farrell. Tennant basically does Doctor Who with swearing, and is clearly having a lot of fun, and Farrell makes an enjoyable, mean bastard of a vampire. The effects are pretty good and there are some decent set pieces - most memorably the tense escape-from-the-vampire-house sequence and a nice Near Dark-esque final showdown.

Its main problem is one of pace. The basic premise - what if you had a vampire living next door - is thrown away too quickly and the film reels about trying to find a coherent direction for the second half. The level of threat posed by Farrell's vampire seems to change depending on the requirements of the plot, and the motivations of everyone involved never quite feel right.

That said, it was a decent watch, and given the choice between watching it again and walking up a really steep hill, I'd probably do the first one.

Love and Other Drugs

The good: it has lots of nudity in it. Hurrah! And I laughed about four times.

The bad: it has literally no idea what kind of a film it is. Light hearted Rom-com? Serious issues film? Apatow style slapstick comedy? Tragic exploration of love against the odds? It has a stab at all of these, and scores a few laughs along the way, but ultimately leaves you unsure as to what it was trying to achieve.

Still. Nudity, eh?

Tower Heist

Or, as it is called in Northern Ireland, "Tour Haste". This is very nearly a good film, and I had a lot of fun watching it. Eddie Murphy is quite entertaining, and there's a nice ensemble of actors getting together to perform the titular robbery. We have some 80s style over-the-top set pieces and a strong central premise. But it's too long by about half and hour and, also like a lot of 80s films, it doesn't fully commit to being a comedy, playing its thrills as serious action-movie stuff. Hard to pull off, and not something which really works here. And absolutely no nudity.

So there you are. Watch these films if you want. They will entertain you a bit.

Wonder if that's the sort of quote that gets you put on posters?