Apparently, his name was Mikey.
And while my family was having a nice time at the pool this past week, little Mikey decided, perhaps inadvertently, f--k that. Oh, your daughter wants to go down the slide? Perhaps I'll run up it. Gee mister, your shirt looks dry. Maybe I should spit water on it. Hmm, looks like you're trying to take a cute picture of your son, huh? Perhaps I should dart in front of him, splashing your smartphone along the way. And while I'm sure you've got your own kids' safety to worry about, I'm going to take about a half dozen headers, running around the pool like an asshole.
While all of this was going down, while my little parade was being rained on, I could only think of one thing: where the f--k are this kid's parents?
Unlike that (woefully) uninteresting tidbit from our vacation, I had a blast with writer/director Zak Hilditch's These Final Hours. Set in Australia during the final moments of Earth's existence, the film is a tensely gripping experience that shines a little ray of light on the darkest bits of humanity. When nothing really matters, should you do something that does?
Jimmy is kind of a f--k up. We meet him as he's making sweet love. Is this women his wife? His girlfriend? We're not sure. But it's clear he's got somewhere to be, and her desperate eyes aren't enough to make him stay.
So, he hits the road and we get an intimate look at the end of civilization. Freaks of all kinds are out and about and it's pretty f--king clear, all bets are off. After outrunning a crazy f--ker with a knife, ol' James sees some burly bastard hauling a little girl into his house. With the clock ticking, and an invitation to the Last Great Party in the history of time, Jimmy does not what we expect, but what we hoped: He goes inside and saves the day.
And while my family was having a nice time at the pool this past week, little Mikey decided, perhaps inadvertently, f--k that. Oh, your daughter wants to go down the slide? Perhaps I'll run up it. Gee mister, your shirt looks dry. Maybe I should spit water on it. Hmm, looks like you're trying to take a cute picture of your son, huh? Perhaps I should dart in front of him, splashing your smartphone along the way. And while I'm sure you've got your own kids' safety to worry about, I'm going to take about a half dozen headers, running around the pool like an asshole.
While all of this was going down, while my little parade was being rained on, I could only think of one thing: where the f--k are this kid's parents?
Jimmy is kind of a f--k up. We meet him as he's making sweet love. Is this women his wife? His girlfriend? We're not sure. But it's clear he's got somewhere to be, and her desperate eyes aren't enough to make him stay.
So, he hits the road and we get an intimate look at the end of civilization. Freaks of all kinds are out and about and it's pretty f--king clear, all bets are off. After outrunning a crazy f--ker with a knife, ol' James sees some burly bastard hauling a little girl into his house. With the clock ticking, and an invitation to the Last Great Party in the history of time, Jimmy does not what we expect, but what we hoped: He goes inside and saves the day.
