Uhh . . . I went to Star Trek last night. I instantly regretted it. It was supposed to be in an IMAX theater here in Montreal, but only for two weeks. Go figure. But no matter.
I rarely, rarely go to movies. I guess it just takes a particular kind of person to enjoy the process. The parking. The ticket-buying. The being in the theater with dozens, possibly hundreds of strangers, all mesmerized at a lo-fi screen. Hilariously loud volume levels. Hilariously bad Hollywood "bottom line! Get back our shareholders' investment!" efforts. Mediocrity bundled with more mediocrity: day-old popcorn drenched with imitation butter concentrate for $5.95 for a ridiculously large "small" portion.
Christ Be Jesus Be Fucking Jesus Christ, JUST STAY HOME. Wait for the DVD, dudes. Do yourselves a favor and buy a 42" plasma and a nice home theater and just rent this shit.
Save the popcorn for Orville Redenbacher's, dress it up with garlic butter and Southwestern spice from Penzey's and AVOID cinemas for the next ten years. I swear, I go to the video store and look through thousands, if not millions of choices and can't pick a single one because they're just churned-out dreck. THIS is what Hollywood does these days. And last night was no exception. You want me to go to a cinema to watch this? I don't think so.
Unless the next Lord of the Rings comes out in the next couple of years (hey, why don't they have more cinematic reruns, anyway?) I AIN'T GOIN' NOWHERE 'CEPTIN MAH BEDROOM.