My car is my lover

Sadly I missed what looks to have been a poignant and restrained Channel 5 doc on Mechaphiles last night. For those of you mouthing the word 'mecha-what' a mechaphile is a car-lover, someone who fucks cars. Or in some cases just wanks over them.



According to my friend at one point one of them claimed to have shagged Airwolf. I can't help but wonder how long it will be before this important issue gets the attention it deserves. We have abolished and apologised for slavery yet we continue to refer to ourselves as 'car owners'. At last the idea of gay marriage has become a reality but what about those who want to wed their four wheeled wank wagon? How long must we wait till auto-sexual priests can stand proud at the pulpit and preach the pleasures of the tailpipe?

Come election time it is these types of important issues that could be the deciding factors, thank you Channel 5 for making such a thought provoking piece of shit.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008)

Last time George Lucas jump-started a franchise I grew up with it was universally hailed as both a critical and commercial success story. In the summer of 1999 everyone wanted to kiss his fat neck and grow a 'Georgie'. An affectionate term for the beard and quiff combo sported by the Lucasfilm mogul. After the opening of Phantom Menace I (like many others) started wearing Lucas style lumberjack shirts. I was so happy about the way he had added to some of my favourite films and given the world a new fantastic sci-fi action adventure, someday I could show it to my kids and say "I was there on opening day".

None of this is true, of course. When I say 'fantastic' I really mean 'staggeringly abysmal' and by 'sci-fi action adventure' I mean 'shit-crock exploits of a dimble-brained rasta alien fuckstick, Liam Neeson and a little twat who shouts yipeee'. Nobody wanted to kiss Georgie and no one wanted a beard like his. Instead of wearing lumberjack shirts I wore a frown made of hate. I hated him a lot.

I hated him for making a boring Star Wars movie about a trade embargo. I hated him for making Darth Vader whiny and annoying. I hated him for suddenly deciding that you can't learn 'the force' and that some people are just born with it. Maybe most of all I hated him for somehow ensuring that no-one 'acted' at any point in any of the Star Wars prequels.

I wasn't alone. There were millions of others just like me. All of us hating George for squatting over our childhood favourites, going blue in the face and straining out a sludgy string of stinky fat curlers; laughing like Jabba all the while as his illuminated dollar sign eyes rolled backwards and made ker-ching noises.


Last night, nine years later, as the lights fell in the theatre I was worried that it would be the same story again. This morning however, a friend asked me to sum up Indy 4 in one word and I said 'Relief'.

Somehow George's influence hasn't caused this project to completely derail. Indiana Jones and the kingdom of the crystal skull is not shit. It's not even just OK, it's good, it's very good. If you didn't like Indiana Jones before this isn't going to make you see the light but if you like Indy you'll like this - at times you might even love it.

Right from the off even the Paramount logo treatment plays into the lowered expectations for this movie. In Raiders the logo became an Andean mountain, in Temple it was embossed on a giant gong, Crusade turned it into a peak in Monument Valley. Here it becomes more molehill than mountain and is soon crushed beneath the wheels of a speeding hot-rod as Elvis blares from the radio.

Things have moved on since we last met Indy, the nineteen years since he was last in the cinemas have also passed by in his world. He rode into the sunset in 1938 but it's 1957 when a fake military motorcade pulls past the Atomic Café, takes out the guards and rides into Area 51.


Still some things never change, before long a body is hauled from the boot of a car and thrown to the floor amidst a flurry of orders spoken in Russian. A hand reaches into frame, it picks up and dusts off a familiar old hat. We get a shot of the classic silhouette, the theme begins to stir and Indy is back! Dusty, battered and filling the frame with a one miserable word - "Russians."

Russians who are looking for something, something held inside a déjà vu inducing warehouse full of wooden crates. What follows is everything you could hope for in an Indiana Jones opening sequence. There is not one but two supernatural relics involved, Indy fights bad guys, Indy fights a bigger bad guy, he runs, he swings, he whips, he drives, he crashes from one scene to another, into increasing bizarre vehicles and locations and when he finally escapes he is debriefed by Jim Robinson from neighbours. It's pretty much everything I hoped for and more. I had a big grin throughout.

After a quick breather back at Marshall College the movie starts proper. Shia LaBeouf rolls in looking like Marlon Brando's underfed little brother and tells Indy that his old college chum Professor Oxley has gone missing. Supposedly last seen in Peru while searching for some kind of crystal skull. 'Mutt' produces a letter covered with symbols and gibberish and tells Indy that he has a stake in this too, his mother is also missing.

More action isn't far away in the shape of some russian agents and a lively motorcycle chase across the college campus. Shortly thereafter Indy is swapping his tweed for khaki again and we are treated to the trusty red line weaving its way across the world map as things really start rolling.


From here on in it's business as usual. Dusty temples, skeletons, treasure, traps, puzzles, angry natives and one liners. At 65 Harrison Ford is more than equal to the task of bringing Indy back from the dead and it may not be the only thing he's reviving. For the first time in ten plus years he actually seems to want to be at work. He runs, dives, jumps, whips and quips his way through this movie like a man half his age. Shia is barely a third of his age but he holds his own against the star of the show. There are some cracking exchanges between the two, he brings exactly the right sort of chemistry and likeable 80s movie style energy that made him stand out in Transformers and Disturbia.

On the side of evil Cate Blanchett is tons of fun as the psychic leader of the Russians. Although they never quite feel as threatening as the Nazis they do their job. The big 'surprise' is the return of Karen Allen. She is feisty as ever even if she drops into the background in the third act. Marion and Indys reunion scene is wonderful as is Indy's retort on being accused of seeing other women during their time apart:

- There must have been other women.
- Yeah, but they all had the same problem - they weren't you honey.

Despite plenty of star names on the bill it's Indy and the action that are the real stars. A phenomenal set-piece chase later in the movie taking place between a series of vehicles travelling through the jungle puts most other action movies to shame.

On the down side, there's a couple of stupid things in this movie. Tarzan Shia and the friendly monkeys, Mutt just 'happening' to have learnt fencing, But barring the occaisional misfire, script clunk or (even for Indy) over the top bit it's a still an Indy movie.

Some people have reacted badly to the sci-fi elements. I find aliens equally as believable as the infinite life cup or Gods magic ghost box, certainly no less. Given the 50s B-movie atomic age setting it fits right in. All the classic Indy elements are there. Even an amusing snake scene.


The only criticism I'd level at this movie is that it leans too hard on the past but, in a way that's exactly what I wanted. Something comfortable and reassuring not jar-jarring, alien and annoying. Indy 4 is like a greatest hits album, with a 'new song' at the end. The new song is a bit weird and different and the old ones you've probably played to death.

I wanted to love it, I was worried I'd hate it - in the end I came away pretty happy. For two hours I smiled, laughed and cheered and generally felt like a kid. If you sit and pick it to pieces it doesn't work but neither do any of them - just go, leave the real world at the door and enjoy a two hour ride.

Speed Racer (2008)

From the creators of the Matrix comes a world built for Speed. And mushrooms or high grade LSD. The Wachowski Brothers are back and this time they've stripped off their S&M leathers, painted their cocks with glowing primary colours and they're gonna fuck your eye holes. Two flashing, fizzing, fat neon cocks relentlessly ramming the windows to your soul for two hours and ten minutes. Still, no matter how desperately they both grip your head, cycle through strobe settings and furiously pump away, Speed Racer has all the emotional charge of a dialling tone.

A lot has been said about the way this movie looks. That until now this couldn't have been made or that you've never seen anything like it before. This is the sort of wild studio based statement that reminds me of when Matrix Reloaded was coming out. Producer Joel Silver said "We've raised the bar so high that there is no bar". Sadly the results looked like a rushed xbox game with a script from an Atari game and a plot from drunken game of consequences.

As far as the race sequences go I'll admit that they are fantastic. There is an avalanche of creativity on screen, explosions of new techniques, multicoloured manga made real, genuinely mind blowing visual flair and innovation. But when Speed takes his foot off the pedal it's not just the car that stops dead. The bits inbetween look like Dick Tracy with sub-Phantom Menace acting. It's a 100 million dollar remake of Flash Gordon by a Vulcan.


I didn't care about Rex, I didn't care about Mom and Pops, I definitely didn't care about Spritle and fucking Chim-Chim. I didn't care if Speed won or lost. I didn't even care if Speed lived or died. About three quarters of the way through I started to stop caring if I lived or died.

Even Christina Ricci can't save it. Everyone plays their part well but somehow their dodgy lines fall flat, never stepping out of the green screened soundstage and into the cartoon world the races occupy. Much like Phantom Menace at first glance the movie seems to have all the ingredients for adrenaline fuelled action and adventure. But they soon make the same mistakes. No-one wants to see a sci-fi adventure movie that revolves around a trade embargo, and, no-one wants to see a racing movie that revolves around a complicated plot to drive up stock prices.

The races themselves soon become repetitive, another spinning car, another upside down shot. The so called car-fu that has been made so much of was so-so but in the grand scheme of things it added nothing - the movie lacked heart and no amount of upside down, spinning, back-flipping cgi cars could replace that.


When I saw it on a Saturday night the cinema was empty except for five people. Which is probably a good indication of how popular this flickering kaleidoscopic turd is going to be. You could always say that really this is for kids, I don't agree. There was a kid sitting behind us during the showing and he didn't get it at all.

Every ten seconds he would ask who or what was on screen and why it was happening. If the sound was louder i.e. during a race he would ask repeatedly, each time increasing in volume. Who is that? Where is he going? Has he crashed? Why has he crashed? Will he get an ambulance? WILL HE GET AN AMBULANCE? WILL HE GET AN AMBULANCE?

Despite the fact that Pops was in the movie from the start - about an hour and forty-five minutes in he bellowed 'Is that his Dad?' 

At one point Speed Racer was talking to an ex-Grand Prix winner who was black. The kid shouted 'Is that his brother?'


Maybe this spastic child has coloured my view of Speed Racer, but, question-tourettes-kid or not this was a shit movie. One reviewer called it 'a hit and run with a box of Crayola' another 'the cgi equivalent of a bukkake movie'. You'll definitely be wiping the cgi spunk off your face for weeks afterwards but you'll have forgotten why it's there before you stand-up.

Incidentally after putting up with it for over an hour we asked the Dad to try and control his kid, repeatedly. Forty-five minutes and numerous inane questions later after hearing him say "When does it finish?' and the Dad say 'Yeah it's boring innit?' I turned round and told him to 'Shut the fuck up because I can't hear the fucking film' to which he replied 'It's a kids film' to which I replied 'Mate, your fucking kid isn't enjoying it and he hasn't had a fucking clue what has happened from start to finish, so why don't you fuck off' to which he just shrugged.

Problem is they're right, Speed Racer is boring and you do wonder when it will finish. For an adaptation of a cartoon about race cars that has to be a major fuck up. If you asked me why I watched the whole thing I'd probably shrug too.