Sprout Head: The Movie review (7/10)

[Missed yesterday’s entry, as I was out not coming home. You get two today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

I missed out on Inception when it was in the cinema. We had tickets to see it, but on arriving at the movietastic theatretorium we found the place rammed. Neither of us could be bothered putting up with that many people, as people are a bit crap – so we opted out*. As such, I still hadn’t seen it until yesterday when it was suggested as a part of Never Going Home that we watch the film. Which we did. With our eyes. (We heard it with our ears)

Here is a brief review for you:

If you really found Inception confusing in any real way then I probably hate you. It’s a heist film. That’s it. There are a handful of layers to it. That’s not hard to take stock of. It’s not as straightforward as All The Other Films, but it is by no means difficult to comprehend – and if you did find it difficult to comprehend then kindly go and kill yourself, because you’re wasting everyone’s time by being alive**.

Naturally I don’t mean the ambiguous ending, which is left intentionally open (I like to call it a technique whereby you don’t have everything spelled out for you, you absolute ponces). That’s free for you to think up what you want about it. Personally I think it was all the feverish dream of a lonely sprout, imagining its life being more exciting in the world of humans, though never quite being able to shake off a sproutish air to his newfound humanness. SPROUT HEAD SPROUT HEAD SPROUT HEAD.

7/10

*Secondary story: we tried to give the tickets away to a few people in the queue, but these people – who were there to watch Inception and hadn’t yet got tickets – just shot us distrustful looks and politely declined. Absolute morons. What’s the worst that could happen? “Oh, these tickets are fake.” “Damn – they were free. Looks like I’ll have to buy some tickets now, which I was going to do anyway.” Idiots. They’re the kind of people that don’t understand this film.

**I don’t condone suicide, so kill yourself in a fun way that doesn’t involve you just hanging your fat ass. Something involving being covered in chocolate sauce and set upon by a frisky elephant, that kind of thing.

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