Did you ever have one of those fortnights where rage-infected monkeys were set loose on a voodoo zombie summoning just as satellite returning from deep space comes into alignment with Mars?
Not even when, later all corpses of the long and recently dead return to macabre half lives in a pack mentality of diverse almost-intelligent revenants, furious-feral undead and mystical ghost monkeys?
Not even when the brave new world populated by pathologically post-traumatic stress-disordered survivalists in a society sent insane miraculosly produces an antidote spread throughout the undead population to restore them to life and sanity?
Not even when the antidote wipes the immediate memories of the post-zombies, freeing them from the recall of the time in flesh-eating ranks of the cannibal mob, thus leaving them with no memory of the outbreak and this is never mentioned to them lest they remember and destroy themselves in an orgy of self-loathing?
Why, of course not … no such thing as a zombie apocalypse … Auntie Nibbs? … oh you ate- … she went away. To Spain. But don’t worry, there is a little Nibb in … some of us.
‘And Another Thing’:
Best Hitchhikers fanfiction ever, including the film.
It tries hard, having Adams written all over it where Colfer isn’t. Apart from everyone not being dead at the end, situations, characters and relationships remain the same. Few new characters – mostly a patrol of old friends & their entourages. It is fun – Zaphod, Ford, even Hiller’s god interviews.
Hilarious. Genius. Not his best.
Fair is fair – the problem is primarily in the denouement. And, while one’s first impression of the discworld novels is one of laid back genial humour, there hasn’t been a novel in – almost ever, in fact – where the entire fate of Ankh Morpork, The Circle Sea, the discworld or the universe did not hang upon the outcome of an endpiece. Kept expecting the goblin army to descend out of the mountains for a game of football, or the Braseneck vs Unseen match, etc.
In the face of that anti-climax: it seems like goodbye. Goodbye to the wizard’s stories (excepting ‘I shall wear midnight’, with possibly of Esk returning) goodbye to vetinari stories (excepting ‘raising taxes’) and particularly goodbye to the household gods & dungeon dimensions stories, which seems to have lapsed into silence before the end of this story. In the face of Pratchett’s illness, the sewing up of the universe is no doubt possible.
Ah screw it. Drumknott got a girl! Woo hoo!
And then there was up. Unmitigated success. Wonderous delight. Profound reward.
Essentially, the experience is not dissimilar to my watching of Serenity: Some people shuffled in, apparently just learning ‘for f**ks sake’ recently, given their gratuity of its use.
Then Up started.
At some point, I was vaguely aware that the ushers were watching them.
But Up was on.
Then, they were being escorted out, swearing away.
But Up was on …
Nothing ruined this movie, could do so or should try. Pixar displays again that silence can be golden, and does excellent dialogue anyway. Beautiful images. The square old man, his balloon shaped wife, the Asian child who wasn’t asian as a plot point – and Dug, a glimpse of canine psyche. The fantastic of the balloons, the birds and dogs never removes one from the story, the tragedy in parts of the story never tarnishes the view.
It is a love story that spreads throughout the genres and between all those involved in its production and watching.