Dom Hemingway

★★☆☆☆

“Is my cock exquisite?”, Dom Hemingway demanded to me and the entirety of the sixth form study area, the scratching of pens ceasing somewhat abruptly. Atleast, he would have done had the glorious invention of the inner-ear headphones not crossed my path sooner (I will never take those curly coils of irritation for granted ever again). With a corker of an opener like that – succeeded by a rather theatrical monologue surrounding the nature of Hemingway’s genitalia – you would expect bold things, hilarious things, great things to come. But Richard Shepherd’s gangster feature never quite tips the mark.

Sliding Doors

★★☆☆☆

I couldn’t tell you honestly why I chose to watch this. I could pretend it was a senseless decision, or a slip of the mouse on the Netflix home page. But, in truth, my selection of this film was completely conscious. I was neither forced, nor bet on; imprisoned or shackled. I was, simply put, magnetized by the uncontrollable Hannah-forces. John Hannah forces, to be precise. And after experiencing the entire film in a state of glazed confusion (mostly by how I could be so controlled by my pathetic crushes), I have come to the conclusion that, lets be honest, he should have played all the characters in this up-and-down Brit-flick.

Magic Mike

★★☆☆☆

The magic in Magic Mike is completely lost on me. Male strippers, close to no real engaging narrative and an alarming abundance of shit acting. How did I get here again? Oh yes, that was it. Matthew bloody McConaughey. As I write this, I am listening to the Interstellar score with those Hans Zimmer organ melodies rushing to my ears, internally crying with confusion as to how the actor of the moment got from this to that. Winding back the clock can be a distressing experience but I’ll try my best to find some positives.