I refrained from purchasing Prometheus because of format-pushing.

(Note: This article was written before the move to Sydney, and long before the holiday that I prefer to call MoneyMas. Circumstances have changed somewhat since I wrote it, but apart from a closing note, I will write more on the subject in a later article.)

I love Blu-ray Disc (aww really, I hear you cry). It is not just because the media offers the best home cinema experience money can buy, or that it makes the “cinema” part of home cinema far more literal. (There is a reason that cinemas do not project in an interlaced format, morons.) And it is not even because it is the first home cinema medium where the price seems fair relative to what I get in exchange. No, the reason I love it so is because when I watch older films that I only ever saw on VHS on Blu-ray Disc, I often see those older films in a completely different light. One that DVD cannot hold a candle to.

More reflections on RoboCop (aka Paul Verhoeven is awesome, part three of eleventy billion multiplied by the square root of the distance between where I sit and Proxima Centaurii)

So after I published my previous writing about the subject of the most awesome film that has ever been made (and likely will be made, at least during my lifetime), I began to think to myself. I have really not begun to describe why it is so incredibly, utterly, mind-blowingly awesome, at least not on a level that fans can appreciate.

RoboCop is the greatest film ever made (aka Paul Verhoeven is awesome, part two of millions)

In the midsection of 1988, I got sick. I do not mean just sick like a flu, cold, or some other transient virus. I mean sick to such a degree that I stopped being afraid that I might die, and started to fear that I would not. Over a period of two or three weeks, I lost approximately two thirds of my bodyweight.

Before clicking on the jump, take note: much waxing poetic about the incomprehensible awesomeness of this film will follow. Although some elements will be kept unspoken, this will reveal much about the story. Given that the number of times I have watched this film now may even number above a thousand, that does not bother me. However, it might bother you, so consider yourself warned.

Crank: High Voltage (aka Mike Patton is a genius, part two)

So one of my unforgiveable hobbies, as it turns out, is to watch films that offer a perspective on the world that is not coincidental with the Everyone Is A Child nonsense coming out of mainstream media’s mouth. And one of the best examples of this is a fun little piece called Crank: High Voltage. Crank: High Voltage is a sequel to Crank, a film I did not really enjoy that much until after I saw Crank: High Voltage. More on that in a moment.

A (lousy) recollection of The Stepford Wives, circa 2004

The years postdating 2003 have not been very kind to me. There are a number of reasons for this, but that is a matter for another time. The simple fact we are dealing with today is the overwhelming shittiness of a film called The Stepford Wives.