So, yeah, we saw Shang-Chi, the 25th MCU movie — and second that didn’t feature the adventures of white guys fighting other white guys to solve white guy problems with money — last night, two months after everybody else in the world, which is par for the course around our parts. And, well, look: parts of it were fantastic. The dialogue is whip-smart. The acting is top-shelf. Awkwafina and Ben Kingsley steal all the shows. Michelle Yeoh. Enough fanwank to cause heart attacks in 30% of incels world wide. The single most relatable, understandable, antagonist in MCU movies. Michelle freaking Yeoh. And yet…

It’s too damn easy to count the bits of Black Panther, the bits of Doctor Strange, the bits of Batman Begins, bits of that Bond movie where he fights someone in a neon high-rise, bits of every other Marvel movie with no surprises, bits of Guardians of the Galaxy 2, there’s yet another climax where two giant bits of giant CGI fight each other… honestly, they’re all starting to feel the same, now. And it’s yet another Marvel movie that’s ultimately about shitty Dads causing shitty Dad daddy issues in kids that can only be resolved by spending billionaire dollars or punching Daddy really, really hard…. you know, like Howard Stark, Thanos, T’Chaka, Ego, David Banner, Odin, Adrian Toomes……

On the other, other hand, it’s quotable as fuck, so here’s a mixed movie quote that was amongst the easiest ever to create.


Not long now: this time next week I’ll be packing the car with over a dozen large carboard boxes containing my display — entitled Alien Archaeological Expedition, for those with a need to know — driving for 16 wincing-at-every-goddamn-bump-in-the-road hours to get my arse to Perth, and carefully piecing over a dozen large cardboard boxes worth of Lego display back together again ready to set up for two days of telling people that no, this doesn’t come from a set, yes, I did make it myself, no, it’s not bloody Star Wars, yes, I really did come up with it myself, and no, your dad didn’t see it on the shelves at Target, go check yourself…. (Believe me, there’s a bingo sheet.)

It’s Bricktober time!

A tiny taste of one corner of my display. Imagine a tonne of in-jokes like this, but 12 baseplates bigger.

Get your tickets, come see the very large display I spent seven months putting together, marvel at the brilliant things people way more brilliant then me did in less time for much greater effect, and say hi to me because gods knows I don’t have any other Lego enthusiasts or, you know, even actual friends up here.

I can’t wait.


What with the live-action adaptation of the top-three-greatest-anime-shows-of-all-time Cowboy Bebop dropping on Netflix next month, and what with Luscious taking the girls out for a girly day out yesterday, I took the opportunity to sit down with Lord 16 and finally press play on the final piece of his Space Cowboy education: to watch the Cowboy Bebop: The Movie after loving our way through the 26 episodes we’d already watched together. (Him for the first time, me for the umpty-billionth and oneth).

Of course I love it, and of course he did too, and of course we’re going to be right there come November 19, and of course it remains on of the greatest anime shows, not to mention greatest space operas, ever committed to tape.

But, as is the way of all things, to watch is to mis-quote. So here we go with today’s Mixed Movie Quote. Let the good taste… uh… retire:


One thing about teaching: being forced to a) teach film analysis to students who, for a variety of reasons, may have seen fewer than ten movies in their entire life, and b) choose films that conform to very strict rules regards purpose and rating, certainly results in watching movies you would never approach under any other circumstance.

Two cases in point.

First, the good: It was decided to teach our year eleven students horror movie this year, and the film that satisfied enough of the criteria to be chosen was the 2001 film The Others. I am about as far from a Nicole Kidman fan as it is possible to get — I find her cold, unconvincing, and so stagey I’m never unaware that she is dame-of-the-stage ahhhcting (a problem she shares with Judy Davis) — and yet, despite some shonky Kidmanesque moments (her pronunciation of ‘coh-TENS’ for ‘curtains’ raised a giggle every. damn. time.), the movie turned out to be an absolute masterpiece.

It was also, surprisingly, extremely teachable, even to a gaggle of boofhead boys who want nothing more than for this year to just shutup and go away so they can get on with the apprenticeships they’re just filling in time before taking up. Who’d have guessed? Not me.

On the flip side of the lottery, unfortunately, was case study two: the as bad as expected. In this case, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle, a Disneybland assemblage of forced jokes, vapid life lessons, cliched everythings, and terminal eyerolls starring no fewer than four actors who make me want to run screaming from the cinema at even the mention of their names. The year eights I am teaching, of course, loved it, the treacherous little shits.

Ah, well. Can’t win them all.

So, two mixed movie quotes, and on the basis that the one for The Others pretty much chose itself, I’ve not remixed them with each other for once. In order of preference, The Others first:

And Jumanji: Welcome to the Executive Blandification.