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June 18, 2008

Another trip to London, another screening. Am beginning to feel like one of those proper journos what go to press launches and film previews and stuff. But those who know me know it’s actually because I’ll never pass up a freebie, so it was off to Leicester square for Hancock.

The film itself was fine. The last 20 mins are a bit flaky and they missed an opportunity to do something really interesting with their (actually well-played-out) twist. Smith does his usual straight-talking, wise-cracking everyman, except this time he’s a tortured, alcoholic reluctant superhero with a chip on his shoulder that Bill Gates would be proud of.

The public think he’s an asshole, the villains are out to get him and even those he saves plan to sue him. With a warrant out for his arrest, his only thankful victim – I mean rescued – is a PR man who decides to set about changing Hancock’s public image. But that means one thing: jail.

It sounds like fluff but there are gleams of depth in there somewhere – it’s just a shame the makers didn’t go that extra step and make Hancock as well-rounded as he could have been. Maybe in the sequel, eh?

Story of the evening:
In the queue into the screen, my sort-of-step-bro (SOSB) and I found ourselves in between Alison off Big Brother (the large black lady who now presents for This Morning) and Anita Roddick’s daughter. Roddick did a double take, “I know you…” she said to Alison. I was about to make a quip about not thinking someone like her would watch such crap as BB (especially something as crass as BB3), but then Alison said that she’d been over to her house to interview her mother. “Yes, yes that was it,” she said, looking at me too, as if to include me in the conversation. She obviously thought Alison and I were buddies. I smiled back, kinda liking the association with a Z-lister (hey, celebrity is a drug, even if it is the skanky skag rocks equivalent).

“Yeah…” continued Alison, “six weeks later – she was dead!”
SOSB and I cringed. I shrank back, desperately wanting to disassociate myself with Alison asap – oh how the public turn!
“Er… I’m sorry?” said Roddick.
“Six weeks after our interview was when your mum died,” carried on Alison, at the top of her voice. “Gutted I was. Gutted. How are you anyway?”
“Still quite heartbroken actually,” said Roddick, turning away and finding a seat – as far away from us as possible.

BB4’s Alison: definition of a tactless godbshite, ladies and gents.

Must be terrible to be the child of someone famous sometimes.


Oh and on a side note, I realised the other day that I can rattle off every BB winner in order:
Craig, Brian, Kate, Cameron, Nadia, Anthony, Pete, Brian

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. June 18, 2008 12:17 pm

    Good god. That’s dreadful…
    How do you get these free screening blags? I want some!

  2. June 24, 2008 6:25 pm

    Jesus, I’ve always hated that fat embarrassment. Her ‘wacky’ interviewing style on This Morning must make actors want to be sick – watching it certainly makes me feel that way. What a tit.

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