Is that a Sh$t on my floor and other terrible one-liners!
The very hot sticky Doha summer weather is pretty much over, thankfully, and me and ‘Himself’ recently took a wonder around the lovely park off the Doha Corniche.
It was so enjoyable which indicates two things to me: one I’m getting really old, like the granny’s who used to grin at me when I ran around the park as a child, and two: I no longer have to sit in cinema to escape the blazing heat because there is nothing else to do.
CINEMAS IN DOHA
The cinemas in Doha are cool, comfortable and air-conditioned to the point of freezing, but oh-my-god – wasn’t there just some unmitigated RUBBISH on this summer. I mean, per-leese. The Expendables2. After the Expendables1 – were no lessons learned?
The premise is something along the lines of – aging mercenaries – blow things up – get to be really tough, get the girl and pretend they still matter. The sad fact is, they weren’t great in the first place, Stallone, Schwarzenegger, et al. but now they are just sad. Over steroid, botoxed, with more plastic in their faces then they’re carrying around as toys, sorry, I mean guns.
Such vanity made it hard to believe they are hard-nuts, trained killers, ruthless gunslingers, when they’ve plucked their eye brows, tinted their hair and stuffed more collagen into their lips then the Kardashians. I lasted ten minutes – then left.
I thought it was the worst film of the season, but oh no, I was wrong. Because I was desperate, really bored, nothing to do, ‘Himself’ was a way, I went to see Ted. OK, I know it’s a ridiculous premise, a magic talking teddy, a grown man trying to make the transition into adulthood, but hey, we all loved the Simpsons and they were yellow, so I decided to give it a try.
But really, when the very lovely girlfriend of the fore mentioned grown man walks into her front room and says the line, “Is that a sh$t on my floor”. God no. That was most definitely crass, vulgar, tasteless, unnecessary, and still not quite enough for her to dump (no pun) her useless fella. This film clearly had to be written by a man. (I admit I stayed to the end though, and even giggled once or twice but then ended up with the same feeling I have when succumbing to a BigMac when I’m supposed to be dieting!)
MADE ME GRATEFUL THERE IS CENSORSHIP IN QATAR
Are we done yet with this seasons worst films? Oh no – because the carrot-winning, most awful film, not only of the season – but quite frankly EVER – is still to come. Are you one of the poor unfortunates who had to sit through FREELANCERS and watch the impeccable Robert De Niro try to act alongside the can’t-act-if-his-life-depended-on-it-50-cent-who-only-got-the-gig-because-he-paid-for-the-whole-film? I was and I’m considering therapy for PTSD as a result.
Shame on you Bobbie, the equivalent of acting prostitution. A sad day. 50 Sad, I mean Cent had literally two expressions throughout the whole film as follows:
1) Eye shockingly white toothed slightly bemused smile
2) Eye shockingly white toothed slightly bemused grimace
That was it, his complete acting range. It was painful, and if it wasn’t for the fact that I had a macabre fascination with Bobbie De Niro whoring
himself, and Forrest Whitaker acting everyone else off the screen, I’d have bolted.
The award for the worst dialogue to 50 cent, it made me glad there’s censorship here so I didn’t have to watch the inevitable end game. I mean
what self-respecting girl could resist these chat up lines. “Do you like peanut butter?” “Yeah, I like peanut butter.” “So do I. See we got loads in common, lets fu@k.”
So glad the weather is cooler, more walks, less films – am I turning into a grumpy old lady?