THE INCREDIBLE SULK's MOVIE REVIEW: SKYLINE

This is not your run-of-the-mill "alien invasion" movie. This IS however, you're run-of-the-mill "Aliens-wanna-kill-us-THEY'RE SUCKING MY BRAINS" movie. The Incredible Sulk recommends you carry one of those brown paper bags you puke in on turbulent flights. Oh yeah, this is that kind of movie.

The movie stars one hot chick, one guy who looks like that guy from LA Ink with his irritating pointy goatee, the black guy from Scrubs, and one hot chick you just know is gonna die.

Skyline is set in Los Angeles. I mean the directors couldn't possibly set it in New York coz Godzilla, King Kong, and those zombies from I Am Legend haven't left yet. Also that tsunami stuff that happened in 2012 (the movie, not the year) hasn't dried up yet.

One of the unique things about this movie is that you never learn the lead character's names throughout the movie. There is no arty-farty reason for this. It is not beacuse the filmmaker "wants you to have an emotional disconnect," or coz he wants you to "view the movie dispassionately, as though immersed in a world without right or wrong," or anything else grey-matter stimulating.

You don't learn the characters names coz they really don't get to complete their sentences.

For example:

"OMG, watch out behind you Lau_______and *FLOOMP* she gets her brains sucked out.

Another example:

"Be careful Ke________and *FLOOMP* she gets her brains sucked out.

Last example:

"You know I love you Ja_____and *FLOOMP* they ain't no sex scene in the movie

So you see, dear reader, while it may not exactly be a grey-matter stimulating reason, you, in fact get to see a lot of grey matter.

L'arrivée d'un train en gare de La Ciotat (translated from French into English as The Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat Station) is an 1895 French short black-and-white silent documentary film directed and produced by Auguste and Louis Lumière. This 50-second silent film shows the entry of a train pulled by a steam locomotive into a train station in the French coastal town of La Ciotat. It has one of the distinct honours of being one of the first moving pictures ever screened. It now also has the distinction of having more of a plot than Skyline.

Skyline is directed by the Brothers Strause. They sound cool, but they are actually pot-bellied and bald middle-aged men. But the Incredible Sulk is not judging. For the Incredible Sulk has a receding hairline and when he looks down he sees the makings of a beer belly, that grows at a slightly slower rate than the Incredible Sulk's pregnant neighbour. Worrying signs indeed.

But back to the Brothers Strause. The Brothers Strause are most famous in Hollywood for their visual effects, both brothers being expert visual effects guy things. With classics such as Alien vs Predator movies, 300, X-Men, Constantine and classucks suck as Titanic to their credit, the Brothers Strause are masters of special effects. Their ultimate achievement, according to the Incredible Sulk, would be if they find a special effect to help Keanu Reeves act.

And by act we don't mean, The Matrix, which required one emotion from Keanu Reeves - don't laugh.

Skyline is what happens when you give special effects guys like the Brothers Strause, a WHOLE movie to direct. Brilliantly realistic aliens, who have nothing to do. No "ET wanna go home" scenes here. ET just land on earth and kill.

If it were upto the Incredible Sulk, the Incredible Sulk would drag his imaginary girlfriend for this movie (which proves she's imaginary, coz no self-respecting girl, nor the most loyal, loving girlfriend would set foot inside a cinema that showed this movie). However, you should wait for it to come out on DV...err...okay, it's not coming out on DVD, so wait for it to come on TV..err...okay, no channel is willing to show this. Well, that's your bad luck.

As for the Incredible Sulk:
"Two tickets please"
"Yes for me and my girlfriend"
"What do you mean what girlfriend??!!??........

THE PRESIDENT IS COMING, CAME, WENT, BROUGHT HIS PLANES AND BLOCKED THE LANES

Barack "that fucking IT country" Obama came to Mumbai. So they spruced up the city. Takes me back to the days when I used to shove all my toys into the box and pretend the room was clean.

Obama bought lots of planes. 1 for him and his family, 1 for his not-so-Secret-Service-i-can-see-them-what's-the-big-Secret. And another 18 to carry the ego the American President is supposed to have when he visits other countries. Those psychoanalyst chicks who like to point out what a small peepee I/every second guy has just because we like "big" cars; they're going to have a field day.

Someone should remind him that apart from Bangalore, not many people in India wanna kill the President of the White, Red and Blue. So there's really no need to bring 3000 millitary personnel. Plus if we REALLY wanted to kill you we'd give you some chilly chicken from Patel's Roadside Chinese Food. The Air Force Commode One would never be the same again.

While in Mumbai, President Obama made a few speeches. Some of them took 15 minutes. Some of them took a bit longer. Below I've been kind enough to transcribe one of them.

"Good afternoon. I've come to this wonderful country and Mumbai in particular to get back at you brown bastards for stealing all our jobs. That's right. Hell yeah! Gimme a Hell Yeah! Here's a contract for 10 second-hand US millitary planes. Now, 5000 Americans will take 5 years to build those planes and you're gonna pay them. Okay? Good. Now I'm off to Malaysia. Where the f**k am I gonna park all these damn planes when I get there. I've got small states in the US that are bigger than Malaysia. Oooooo. More jobs. Namaste India. Don't know what that means."

This is not really what he said. It is my interpretation. Sue me. Actually don't.

A news channel did an expose on Obama's hair and how it changed from black

("Don't say that word, he's the first AFRICAN-AMERICAN US President")

("I was talking about his hair")

(DON'T SAY THAT WORD")

("I WAS TALKING ABOUT HIS HAIR...")

("THEN SAY HIS HAIR IS AFRICAN-AMERICAN")

("WHAT IF AN AFRICAN-AMERICAN HAS BLONDE HAIR?")

("When's the last time you saw an African-American with blonde hair?")

to a salt-and-pepper colour. Well at least our media hasn't dumbed down to the extent where we'd do a piece on "Why is the latest US President so tanned? What? He's not...OH! AMERICA HAS ELECTED IT'S FIRST EVER AFRICAN-AMERIC..." You get where this is going.

By the time this post comes out the US President will have left our muddy shores on an Asia tour more successful than Boyzone's. He wisely avoided Bangalore. And Patel's Roadside Chinese Food.

MY MISTAKES YOU SHOULD LEARN FROM

#3 Do not touch the poles at the entrance of the train compartments on the Western Railway and then eat dahi puri and lick your fingers and then remember you touched the pole at the entrance of the train compartment on the Western Railway.

My experience with the Central Railway and Harbour Line are limited. Thank God.

THE BATTLEGROUND

I've seen the men that emerge from the battleground. The bleary-eyed, beleaguered men. They haven't bathed for days, unshaved, but not unscathed, they emerge from the battleground called Love. Men that wake up in the middle of the night traumatized by the ferocity of the battle. Men who touch their necks gingerly, reminiscing hickies they received in battle.

I saw a man once whose entire neck was choc-a-bloc with blue and purple patches. The scars of battle.

Mosquito bites, he told his mother.

Bullshit, said his mother.

Son, we weren't born yesterday, said his father.

He has a girlfrie*SMACK*, said his brother.

The battleground is strewn with burnt love letters and broken hearts and Little Hearts and flowers in dustbins and smiling-couple polaroids that are torn in two and sometimes look like someone tried burning them. It's a grim war.

Men with six packs less than those hairless wonders from 300 "This is Sparta," forced into battle. Many a young man, in the prime of life forced into war.

This post is for them. Those courageous men, who braved the battle and got burnt. Some of them twice bitten and twice shy. How many men can say they've come out of that alive. This post is for you.

This is NOT for those men who were hurt at The Battleground of One Night Stands I Don't Think She's Coming Back For More. That battleground is 2 blocks down the road, take a left at I'mgonnagetlaid, a right at WooHoo, then walk 100 yards north of a primate dressed in a purple velvet suit called The Pimp Chimp, and stop where Sex marks the spot.

THE INCREDIBLE SULK'S RECOMMENDATIONS

I don't know how to make a pictue in blogspot bigger. So if you can't read this click on the picture or follow this link.

http://www.laptoplit.com/p/workshops.html

MODERN SAYINGS THAT YOU SHOULD SAY - Part 3

Change is inevitable...

Yeah, otherwise you'd be wearing the same chaddis day after day after day, and that's not exactly healthy.

Old habits die hard...

and so does BRUCE WILLIS!

Nothing ventured, nothing gained...

And when he ate the Chinese delicacy his stomach pained.

Don't look a gift horse in the mouth...

Dude. Don't look ANY horse in the mouth.

Beware Greeks bearing gifts...

And an old man climbing down your chimney in the middle of the night with a fake beard, a red suit on the 25th of December. Coz...ummm...kids, I don't know how to break this to ya but...

Born with silver spoon in you're mouth...

Your father was a silver plate.

Or your mum has a thing for cutlery.

Seperate the sheeps from the goats...

Or you'll get wool in your mutton kadai.

An elephant never forgets...

And neither does your mum.

One man's meat is another man's poison...

Or in other words...

Don't be a vegan in Hyderabad. Or Goa.

THE NEW SPECIES

Biologists recently travelled to the Land of India, or as Obama likes to call it, "That Fucking IT Country." In their travels they found a number of new species. One, that I would like to bring to all 4 of my reader's attentions is the one they called, Riksha Driver, scientific name Rikshadriverscankissmyass.

Biologists say they were pleasantly surprised at the find, and reckoned that this new species had not yet fully evolved like human beings had, yet possessed a unique language of their own that was not unlike the spoken languages of human beings. They also discovered that different regions contained different types of Riksha Driver. For exampe the type found in Mumbai, seemed to follow a rather loose law that biologists called the Meter. This law seemed to govern them, yet worked for each individual's profit. Biologists called this phenomenon, Rigged Friggin Meter. The Mumbai Riksha Driver seemed also to sprout Fare Cards, that seemed to have a random set of figures, not unlike our number system. Although they were mostly fearless, the Mumbai Riksha Drivers would show signs of fear towards two things. They called it the ArtyOh! and the Pandu. Biologists are unsure of what this is. Although they did once see a pot bellied man running around with a stick once, and the Mumbai Riksha Drivers fled at this sight. The biologists also saw that the Mumbai, like many other types of Riksha Driver liked to leave what biologists called a Red Trail. The Ricksha Drivers would, at intervals mark their trail with a red liquid. But their is no unique scent. Hence their habitat is choc-a-bloc with Red Trails. And its sometimes hard to tell whether someone's been killed as the red liquid is a lighter version of blood.

Further south they found a more untamed Riksha Driver. This Riksha Driver shouted random numbers at them whenever the biologists got close. On learning the Southern Riksha Drivers metric system they found it to be not very orderly. In human terms their number system started at 40 and went on to 100 and subsequently 150, 170, 250 and so on...

Biologists reported that by the time they had finished their expedition they did not have any money left. More on this story as it develops.