Ramblings and Musings and Wibblings

Here's a few little hints you might want to rethink driving that car:

- You have two walking sticks on the passenger seat.

- Pedestrians flatten themselves against the nearest wall or fling themselves behind the nearest tree as you hurtle past at approximately light speed, leaving clouds of noxious fumes.

- You are using your teeth to grip the steering wheel as you shift gear.

- You're not using your original teeth to grip the steering wheel, or

- You're not using any teeth to grip the steering wheel but are merely gumming it.

- You can't see without those inch thick glasses.

- You can't see a hell of a lot more with those inch thick glasses.

- You are wearing a cap that is wider than your ears and longer than your nose.

In short:

- If bloody Methuselah himself would fucking call you gramps and offer you his seat on the bloody train, you're damned well not supposed to be fucking driving, you maniac.

No love,

Me

*twitch*

...but it is not an extraordinary film. It's neither astonishingly bad, nor astonishingly good. It's an enjoyable movie, provided you suspend disbelief by the neck until deaddeaddead. Which I did, and therefore I enjoyed myself.

Just one slight peeve:

Book-Nautilus. Nemo's ship. Sleek, stealthy bugger, very luxurious inside. At least that's what I always imagined when I read "20,000 Leagues".

Movie-Nautilus: beautiful artwork, both exterior and interior. All very pretty. And also completely stupid. This was supposed to be a fairly secret mission. Now, Nautilus is a submarine. Which should mean the aforementioned stealthy sleek bugger. But what do we get? We get a baroque (or maybe rococo) version of the Brittanic. In exquisite detail. Seriously, 90% of the screen time Nautilus gets is of her on the surface. Now in my book, stealth does not mean popping up to the surface so Allan Quatermain can shoot clay pigeons. (Also: fiddly details? Not so good for aerodynamic flow.)

And the other thing: Nautilus is meant to be big. Looking at the film, she's easily 500 yards long, probably more. And what do they do with her? They breeze into Venice with her! You know, Venice? The watery city of the narrow waterways with lots of low bridges and corners? And they sail this big fuck-off ship in there! How the bloody hell is she supposed to turn corners? Teleportation?