The path to Prometheus has been long and winding and so damned tantalising that I SIMPLY CANNOT WAIT ANY LONGER.
As we speak there’s mere hours until the midnight showings that are taking part across the country and goodness help me, if the screening I’m planning on going to sells out before I manage to secure my entry – and you’re the one in front of me who buys the last remaining ticket – then so help me I’m going to cry so hard, for so long, so embarrassingly loudly until you hand it over.
And to make things clear, I’ll keep on going EVEN if it means following you around town, snotters streaking behind me like strings of xenomorphic confetti as I make gibbering, barely coherent references to 1979’s classic Alien, to which Prometheus functions as something of a pseudo-prequel. (How closely they’re linked remains so mysterious that the films’ director Ridley Scott probably bashes his own head with a brickbat after each reading of Damon Lindelof’s script, just to ensure he doesn’t give anything away accidentally.)
It’s at this point I ought to give you something of a description of the film, but forget that – just go along and see it, if you’re of age and not a huge feartie. Look at the trailer above if you need convincing, but probably the less you know the better – other than that YOU’D BETTER NOT TAKE THE TICKET FOR TONIGHT THAT IS RIGHTFULLY MINE. Tears are already welling up, so watch yourself. (Release date: this Friday)
On from what might be the best movie of the year, to what might be the best movie of all time. Katy Perry: Part of Me takes us through the protagonist’s unimaginably tough true-life battle.
It’s a non-stop fight from her grim upbringing – “the atmosphere I grew in was 100% Christian”, HOW DID SHE COPE??? – to her eventually having it off with Russell Brand, then not having it off with him because that was a very silly idea in the first place well wasn’t it just? (One that might have been avoided had she responded to any of my thousands upon thousands of specifically directed Tweets.)
Oh, plus in between you see her playing some sort of massive ultra-technicolour CBeebies musical spectacular where those of appropriate age for such a show – ideally two to five – have been replaced by fully grown adults so intelligent that most of them probably would have voted for Jedward ten gazillion times over at this year’s Eurovision, had they been allowed to dial a big-buttoned phone. (During which they still would have accidentally have propelled the Russian grannies to deserved success.) Super-duper! (Release date: July 5)
Anyway, enough of seeing a female floozy with most of her clothes off – let’s see a male floozy with most of his clothes off! And it’s Channing Tatum, hubba hubba ladies, eh?
Lest this be the 21st century Showgirls, Magic Mike is actually helmed by highly credible indie director Steven Soderbergh, and was apparently based on Tatum’s own experience of working as a stripper. Thusly bored housewives can claim they’re attending this based purely on its artistic merits, and not at all because Tatum, Alex Pettyfer, Matthew McConaughey and many other hunky males will be getting pretty much BUCK-ASS NEKKID. (Release date: July 5)
Finally, Your Sister’s Sister, which opened the Glasgow Film Festival and which is a genuinely enjoyable, funny and tender movie about love and loss and connection and all that sort of stuff. All the cast – including Emily Blunt and Rosemarie DeWitt – are superb, but Mark Duplass especially stands out with a superb comic performance laced with a deep melancholy. Oh, and it also contains the most hilariously cringe-worthy sex scene you’ll ever see. Very much recommended. (Release date: June 29)
- You can find all the delightful trailers for the latest movies, including these and more, in our film trailers section.
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