Profile 2 : Megatron

MEGATRON

Age: Unknown.

Eyes: Red.

Hair: None.

Body Type : Gun metal (grey)

Turn-Ons: Blasting things, berating minions, ruling Cybertron, giant killer planets.

Turn-Offs: Autobots, puny humans.

Nemesis: The noble and rather tiringly moral Optimus Prime. The leader of the Autobots has stood in Megatron's way for many years despite clearly not being a tactical genius. One shall stand and one shall fall (eventually)

Luxury Items: A box of energon, gun wax, handgun display case, a copy of 'The Man Who Would Be King'

Choice Of Minion: Starscream. Whilst the two have had a troubled working relationship Starscream has served as Megatron's right hand robot for a long time. Narky, devious and always looking to overthrown his master Star scream is as much hindrance as help.

The powerful and ruthless Megatron leads his fellow decepticons in their battle against the Autobots in a civil war that has raged for countless years across Cybertron. As the conflict expanded across the universe Megatron always called Cyberton home and has fought alongside sworn enemies in the past to protect it.

Coming closest to the losing his homeland when he had a brief dalliance with a giant planet eating entity by name of Unicron. The relationship quickly ended when, well, Unicron exploded, but you know these things happen.

He should perform well with a number of given advantages (first off he actually is a weapon, he can confusingly change his size to suit events and giant robots always tend to fend well against fleshy types) but will need to be careful not to be undermined by his own minion and try to suppress his impulse to order retreat at the first sign of carefully laid plans going awry.

Profile 1 : Skeletor

SKELETOR

Age: I'm guessing old.

Eyes: Not any more.

Hair: No hair either. Stop picking on the poor guy.

Genitals: Oh come on! That's not even a category. You want him to start crying hot, salty tears from his non-eyes? Cos that will freak you out!

Turn-Ons: Berating minions; trying to nick magic castles.

Turn-Offs: Moralising lectures; facial cleanser.

Nemesis: A freaky Aryan with the business end of half a magic sword and a deeply distressing obsession with body-building. Overcompensate much?

Luxury Items: Havoc staff; magic sword (the crappy half).

Choice Of Minion: Mer-Man, whose insistence upon fleeing at the slightest provocation can make for a useful diversion.

The Evil Lord of Destruction. A demon from another dimension. A sorcerer so skilled and evil that he once beat a man with the head of a dead pig. This is not an guy that you want to on get the wrong side of. He'll turn you into a frog and then cackle campily as his flunkies try to capture you (a job which they will inevitably bungle, of course). Alright, so he's unable to recognise the same person once they discard their pink waistcoat and white skinny-T, but the man hasn't any eyes; so give him a break.

Skeletor's biggest weakness could be his sentimentality. This may be revealed once he begins to miss his pet panther, Panthor (itself a replacement for his hamster Hamstor, which Beast-Man ate under the impression it was a strangely furry Twinkie). After all, deep down, all Skeletor really wants is to be loved.

And to take over the universe. And to have a face.

Do I look like I ordered the bouillabaisse, you purple Irish harlot?

Middlesbrough Survival Guide

So, you've decided not to take a holiday overseas this year because you're worried about your carbon footprint. Instead, you've chosen a fortnight in sunny Middlesbrough, because for some reason you're entirely unworried about getting a broken bottle repeatedly thrust into your face and neck.

Perhaps you realised your mistake the moment you watched the first blush of Autumn's flame-towers as they spewed their gouts of fiery filth into the pollution-choked sky. Or maybe it was when you watched your only child being beaten in the street by feral chav-spawn for "Talkin' like a Tory".

Regardless, no matter when the penny dropped, you still have every chance of escaping the mutant-haunted stink-hole you've found yourself in. Just remember the following tips, collated from eye-witness testimony of those that have entered "Boro" and lived to tell the tale.

1. Avoid wearing bright colours after dark. The local fauna primarily base their vision upon movement, and a red shirt or green jacket makes for an easy target. However, one might consider deliberately wearing such tones only to fling them aside at the last moment. This has been known to distract and confuse more than one pack of lager-soaked skin-heads.

2. The giant multi-coloured steel phallus in town centre, left behind by a more civilised society in ages passed, is the God of the local population, and thus must not be mocked under any circumstances, even though it is obviously shit. Note that one can text-message this silent sentinel and demand it change its hue. Perhaps you might consider giving it a go, so as to bond with the inhabitants, or at least bedazzle them with your apparent mastery of "Mighty Iron-Cock". Don't text "PINK", though. They don't like it when you text "PINK".

3. Remember that you are not a four-lunged mutant like the natives, so it is critical you learn how to recognise the early signs of oncoming smog. These include dying of lung collapse, dying of heart rupture, dying of brain-dribbling-out-of-ears, or it being a day ending in Y.

4. This is not a climbing frame, and you're an idiot if you think it is.



Seriously, you'd have to be a total dick to think that.

5. Recent reports indicate that increased numbers of the aboriginal tribes have begun to master primitive weapon use. More and more witness statements involve these peoples' new-found aptitude with the war-peach; a super-dense fruit-based missile capable of rendering a victim unconscious for several hours.

6. Be aware of regular "home matches"; local festivals in which seemingly the entire population answer the hypnotic call to assemble at their place of worship, smashing up much of the town as they go. Should Iron Cock be displeased, and the home team fail, all non-indigenous people will be burned in poorly-constructed bonfires fueled by budget vodka and stolen library books. Should the home team win, then all will be well, though anyone wishing to visit Hell would be well-advised to wrap up warm.

7. Try to bear in mind that Middlesbrough is the child prostitute capital of Europe, having narrowly beaten Ukraine in the 2008 Kid-Whore Face-Off, a yearly international sporting event that really doesn't bear thinking about in any way. Thus, whilst walking the streets of Middlesbrough at night, perhaps you'd like to play the local game of "Spot the Underage Hooker". Or, for more of a challenge, how about "Spot the Legally Adult Woman Who Won't Accept Payment For Sex", a game which traditionally lasts for three hours a time and invariably ends in a no-score draw.

We hope this document is of assistance. Be assured that regular search-and-rescue missions will be mounted from Stockton, with the obvious warning that those found by such missions will then have to actually enter Stockton, and thus may want to consider just throwing themselves into the Tees to see whether they drown or dissolve before the mutant crabs can get to them.

Another strange video from the internet

If the Empire got cold feet at Endor and moved the project...

Lego + Star Wars = Awesome

Top of the 'why didn't they have this when I was young list?' it's the genius that is the combination of Lego and Star Wars. One of my favourite childhood toys combined with my favourite IP. OK, yes we had Space Lego and had it's cool little guys in the blacked spaceships who you could pretend were Darth Danish but to actually have a tiny little Darth Vader with a his own saber that lights up when you push his head down, that's something else. That's a whole new level of cool.

And it is true that Christmas before last was brilliant because I spent two whole days assembling the Lego Star Destroyer my sister wrestled away from a disappointed looking child in Toys'r'us. And it is true that my keys are currently guarded by a wee Lego Imperial Bodyguard (and a now faceless Lego Spiderman).

Also surprisingly addictive to play is Lego Star Wars : The Complete Saga for home video consoles. Either that's a great piece of game design or I do actually really enjoy playing games designed for six year olds (frankly I'm not ruling that out at all.)

So to sum up ; Lego + Star Wars = Awesome.

Keep on revolvin'

Given an almighty kickin' when originally released Guy Ritchie's Revolver turns out to be, well, not terrible. It's confused, pretentious and makes little if any sense but there are far worse films out there (Spawn I'm looking at you).

Revolving around (see what i did there?) Jake Green (Jason Statham) a gambler recently released from prison the film charts his revenge mission against the casino owner who put him in jail. At least that's the starting off point as after about ten minutes Jake collapses and via some highly dubious reasoning and a deeply unconvincing con ends up under the thumbs of a pair of loan sharks. One of which strangely is Andre (3000) Benjamin who however disappointingly doesn't shake it like a Polaroid picture once, but he does hold is own in the acting stakes (and yes I know Statham isn't exactly Gielgud but he does do stoic hard man as well as anyone else).

From here things get a bit messy as the script attempts to play around with narrative structure and with making you think everyone is conning everyone else and that's before it introduces a Keyser Soze figure who may actually be another side of Jake but is also implied to be a manifestation of people's greed. It's like you can hear Ritchie saying "How's that for a high-brow concept, hmm?"

Now I accept the film deserves a certain level of criticism on the basis that it makes no sense at all when you think about it for more than thirty seconds and for the fact it tries way too hard to be smart and clever, but comes off as the guy who answers every question watching University Challenge before the question is finished only to get it wrong. It however does not deserve to be lumped in with the likes of Battlefield Earth (which frankly is just bland rather than terrible) and Spawn as a film preceded by a reputation that smells worse than two year old ham. And I'll tell you why.

It's because for all his flaws Guy Ritchie still has an eye for good a looking shot and a flair for uniquely energetic sequences. Standing out is a sequence where a hitman takes out a building full of goons, something we've seen time and again but here it's still got a pace and energy and imagination in it's execution that you rarely see.

Elsewhere we have deliberately over stylised low angles, heavy use of filters to create strong images and even evidence that Guy's been taking tips from Quentin with some unexpected animated interludes.



If the film had been put together to by a jobbing pair of hands (Are you busy Mr Verbinski?) I've no doubt it would be a far less entertaining two hours than it is now. It is a bit of a confused mess that much is true but there really are for worse things out there (whisper it now, Freddy Got Fingered) and it does win points for at least trying to be something different.

And after the great experiment and the great write off (Swept Away) Mr Madonna (at least at time of writing) is once again playing to his strengths with Rock'n'rolla which is looking good but will undoubtedly lead to another wave of Brit-crim wannabes which is bad.

Just to prove the internet is a strange and wonderful place

This was going to be a witty review of Guy Ritchie's Revolver but a wave of apathy brought on by being cream cracked as soon as I get home and various irritating things floating around my head has put paid to that for the time being. (It's hard to be witty whilst apathetic, believe me)

So instead I present a selection of strange and funny video from the t'interent that helped my past the time not really doing anything at all really, just as apathy demanded:

Prime doesn't like Hilary,



Super Chuck Bros.,



Fighting Foos,


Comedy brilliance for those who know the football references,


The best action film they never really made,



And these last two work best as a pair,




So there you go, the internet a place full of wonder and excitement and people doing inappropriate things to original screenplay Oscar winners. It helps pad out a post when apathy hits, it's a wonderful thing.

A Ghost Story

Our Front Room is retiring for bed.

SS: Make sure you turn the video off!
INP: Still frightened a ghost girl is going to crawl out of the television and brutally kill you?
SS: As I’ve told you many times, I fully intend for my death certificate to attribute my demise to sexual misadventure.
INP: You could… have sex with the ghost, I guess.
SS: Dude! That Ring chick was minging. Also a little girl. That second one should probably have come first, actually.
INP: We could always find an attractive woman of appropriate age, kill her, and then have her haunt you.
SS: Ooh, that’s the best idea you’ve had since that Velcro/cat thing! Write that down for my Christmas present: “Kill hot chick and have her haunt Squid. With sexy results!”
INP: Feh, I’ll never remember it. “Kill Squid” is about as far as I’m likely to get.
SS: Fine. I guess I’ll have to settle for socks again.
INP: Maybe I'll kill you with the socks.
SS: Can’t it be a Kashmir scarf? Only they feel so soft against my skin.
INP: Are you sure you want the murder weapon to be so effeminate?
SS: Because being strangled to death by a pair of socks just screams masculinity.
INP: Real man’s man sort of socks, made out of scratchiest wool. The sort of sock Vikings wore to put them in the killing mood.
SS: You’re still strangling your male housemate on Christmas day with his present. Tongues are liable to wag.
INP: If you keep throwing up objections I’m just going to go back to setting bear traps around the flat and baiting them with cider.
SS: That was you? I thought it was Lord Mothington’s revenge for stripping him of his title.
INP: Just how big do you remember Lord Mothington being?
SS: Shut up! It’s your fault I don’t have feet anymore! That’s why I’ve been sitting at this damn chair for forty-eight hours!
INP: I hadn’t noticed any difference whatsoever. Wait, what’s this? An entirely unguarded can of cider stood inside an oven that no-one could possibly have switched on!
SS: Yay! Stand asi-OOOWWWWW!!!!

Durham Street-Fighting

In the red corner: Fat-Drunk McSkinhead! Standing at six foot ten and weighing 210 pounds, McSkinhead has spent the entire day preparing for this bout by shouting abuse at his mates whilst drinking lager siphoned from the insides of an alcoholic's catheter! Highly trained in drunken boxing (emphasis on drunken); rumor has it that he can head-butt a lazy student lay-about without spilling a drop of his hideous excuse for a drink.

Apparently, though, he can't move two steps to the left to let someone pass him in the street. That he cannot do.

In the blue corner: a wasp. Who, I don't know, probably just wanted some jam.

FIIIGGGHHHTTT!!!

Do Your Part!

Sigh, it is a wet sunday

Well the rain is once more pouring down outside the window (yep, British summer time is over people Autumn is here) and it's a lazy Sunday morning. But what is to be done? Watch a film? Play a game? Watch some sport? Go back to sleep maybe?

Yes, Our Front Room is wracked by indecision.

Frankly the sport only leads to one feeling badly unfit as you watch super-human types cycling round velodromes quick enough to start hurricanes with their tail winds or people who must be related to fish swim 400m in the time it takes us to get across the room. (At least Phelps turns out to be a genuine genetic freak). Football later in the day is a possibility but that does involve going outside.

Playing a game is hampered by being in one of those moods where you just can't decide what you feel like playing. Then spend twenty minutes picking something, play it for five minutes and decide you aren't in the mood for it. Curse fickle Sunday thought patterns.

Film watching suffers from pretty much the same problem. Do you want a character drama, a comedy or some 'Bayhem'. If only Micheal Bay's Shakespeare In Love actually existed it would be perfect Sunday afternoon entertainment.

Well that ramble is over, time to go and end up not doing anything in particular for the next few hours.

Our Front Room Endorses...

Robot Chicken.

This sketch show made with toys is often very funny in very geeky ways. The recent Star Wars Special is just brilliant. (see the below clips) Often found broadcast in the middle of the night it is well worth seeking out, also found spread across the length and breadth of the inter-webby-highway.

Blades of glory....and nonsense

New to the Front Room is Soul Calibur IV a fine exponent of the video game martial arts, blades swoop, legs sweep and heavy burly men are toppled by unfeasibly proportioned women folk (Ivy still winning the gravity defying special award here).

This time around the Lizardmen are more like lizards than ever, there is a seemingly never ending single player campaign thingy, a really cool character creation tool and I'm even familiar enough with a couple of the characters to spot where moves have been tweaked, added or removed.

So far, so normal for a one-on-one fighter sequel. However where Soul Claibur often marks itself out is with it's guest characters. We've had the likes of Link, Spawn and Tekken's Heihachi Mishima. This time however it get's really quite bizarre. This time we have Yoda, Vader and The Apprentice taking part.

The game's excuse to combine the two fiction worlds is flimsy at best and at first it just seems a crazy idea all over. But then you see the green menace himself bouncing around the screen as he bests the mighty Astaroth and then The Apprentice blasts poor old Taki with a bolt of Force lightening and suddenly you don't care that it makes no sense at all.

Then it just becomes fun. Ok, Yoda is horrible to fight against seeing as he's small enough for a lot of attacks to fly over his wizened little head but new guy on the block for the 'Wars' as well fits right in. Yep, the only thing that marks him out is that glowing red blade that hmm and buzzes it way through the air.

Online play also features here and landing a perfect round against another human being halfway across the globe is more satisfying than you could possibly believe.

Film-making is hard

Over the last week principal filming of 'Where's Dan' took place. And it was tiring. Very tiring. But also a lot of fun.

Once it comes out of the post production process it should in theory be an exciting tale of one man's quest to stay alive and undercover the truth about a secret dating back fifty years; on Jersey, (The Channel Island).

Sundance here we come!