It’s the end of the month, which means another sample of and commentary on that terrible Aliens vs. Predator fanfiction novel I wrote in late grade school. When we last left our Predator protagonist, the accurately named Swift-Death, he had just disposed of several questionably intelligent human soldiers and was about to pursue those who had incapacitated and captured his fellow hunters. Let’s see where this takes him, shall we?
I've been on a bit of a reading binge lately. The recently released Mass Effect 3 had been taking up a lot of my time the past couple weeks and in between missions I ended up feeling guilty over neglecting the several bound volumes of literature and comics that had been collecting dust on my shelf, one of which had been sitting there for a couple of months. The following list is a kind of penance, but one I enjoyed for the most part. So, not really a penance, no.
Take Shelter could have been the best movie of 2011.
By the time it arrived at Ottawa’s little Mayfair Theatre in late December I was actually anticipating it more than I had any other film that year, beating out The Muppets and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. As cliché as it sounds, writer/director Jeff Nichols’ understated little thriller had everything: nuanced performances, pitch perfect cinematography, a minimalist but undeniably effective score and a constant atmosphere of dread. But while Nichols’ sophomore feature is 99 per cent of a fantastic movie, the remaining one percent is in danger of dragging the whole cinematic boat beneath the waves (note: none of my friends have approved this analogy). To say I’m disappointed is an understatement.
I seem to have developed a secondary musical taste.
Yes, it’s a strange thing to say. Normally when one talks about developing a secondary anything they’re usually referring to some bizarre mutation: secondary organs, secondary limbs, or any other biological redundancy that might result from proximity to Chernobyl. I’ve never been off this continent, let alone within range of Ukraine, and so I’m unable to link this newly discovered tangential fondness to the ill effects of radiation, but it’s a mutation nevertheless.