What's On? 27.10.16
After enjoying Louis Theroux's My Scientology Movie last weekend, I did think about watching a Tom Cruise film this time. Jack Reacher: Never Go Back is there in the cinema, dangling attractively like a free subscription to be audited. Yes, it's probably just a harmless bit of fun and nothing more (Jack Reacher, not Scientology), but Tom Cruise brings so much intensity to the screen – and probably to everything he does, including auditing – that it would still be a good way to pass the time, in a mindless kind of way. And God knows, I'd love some mindless fun right now, something that helps me switch off, high-octane action scenes where you feel the force. Tom Cruise makes such scenes believable in exactly the same way that Captain America with his Frisbee-like metal shield doesn't, couldn't, and never will.
Oh, there I go again, another pop at 2016's worst and most overrated movie, Captain America: Civil War. A film so bad that its droolingly-exciting six-on-six 'civil-war' fight scene had me trying to check my watch in near total darkness (I mean, how desperate does a person have to be to check their watch while knowing it's almost impossible to make out where the hands are, repeatedly, over the course of ten minutes). After Captain America, I vowed – almost like a superhero myself, in a climactic self-acceptance moment – never to watch a 'superhero' movie again. Unless, of course, a really special-looking superhero movie blazed into view.
Which brings me to Dr Strange, out this week, and looking brilliant. Starring Benedict Cumberbatch who plays the brooding, complex hero of the film, and who in turn is trained by a Himalayan mystic played by Tilda Swinton. From the trailer, it looks to be borrowing SFX from Inception. It looks, in short, to be a hallucinogenic feast, a fall through a giant kaleidoscope. And get this: not a Frisbee-like metal shield (or its po-faced holder) in sight. What's not to like?At some point, of course, the powers that be will ruin it all by recruiting Benedict Cumberbatch for an Avengers or Captain America movie, in which billions of superheroes will no doubt fight each other in a violent high-schoolesque melee, with a Frisbee-like metal shield occasionally flying across the screen, to be chased after by its pompous, sanctimonious, pointless owner (why doesn't Captain America at least get a dog to retrieve the shield for him; a perfect opportunity for Hollywood to resurrect Lassie). But it is not this day . . .