Lee Davis

Zzzzzzzzzz...yawn....zzzzzz..yaaawwnnn....zzzzzz..Zzzzzzzzz....zzzzzzz...yawn

Wooden acting and woeful writing in yet another atrocious piece of crud aimed at the nebulous YA market. Do I care enough to talk about the plot or the characters? No. Life's too short to waste another second on this pile of cold vomit. I'm going to watch the grass grow in a field somewhere...

How It Ends, that was something I really couldn't be bothered to find out after enduring utterly wooden performances from Theo James and Forest Whitaker, not to mention the supporting cast of forgettable non-entities. How It Ends is another product of the sub-par Cloverfield school of movies - things are hinted at or glimpsed but there's no cohesion. Perhaps it's a comment on modern society's reliance on technology and media but how the lack of context or comprehension makes for fearful and disjointed sensory overload. Applying this to a film may be a useful spectacle at the beginning but without explanation and the establishment of storytelling/conceptual parameters it rapidly becomes tiresome. As with the now played-out Cloverfield 'universe,' the pathetic Moonfall, The Happening, and the feeble-minded Greenland, this style of modern disaster movie is slickly produced but clichéd and ultimately a waste of time. And the clichés come thick and fast in this dire film - hicks with guns, chaos at airports, radio chatter from religious nuts, driving sequences that are lifted from indeterminably dull 70s car chase movies and the US military milling about at checkpoints, reflecting the audience's equally uninterested frame of mind.

Dreadful. Waste of time. Garbage.

I loved SAB back in the 90s. It was action-packed, intriguing and a great antidote to the patronising Trek shows that TV was awash with at the time. SAB was cancelled all too abruptly which was a damned shame. Hopefully, Netflix would consider a revival.

Nothing new to see here. Another waste of space 'reality' show. No real challenges or adversity thanks to public liability and the relentless chase for ratings. Shame, really, as it is actually a mockumentary and should have gone full-tilt gonzo! If it's not, then, oh dear, will the last person to leave the Western world, please turn off the light and shut the door.

Pistol wants to be good and it wants to be enjoyed by audiences, but its' wearying insistence to ape the excesses of Velvet Goldmine alongside its' ludicrous depictions of 70s Britain as A Clockwork Orange brought to life, push the show firmly into the realms of parody.

Bwahhhh-haaaaa-ha-haaaaa!!! Roland-ha-haaaa-haaaa-Emmerichhhhhaaaaa!!! Best comedy of the year!!! Emmerich satirises his own bombastic ouvere in Moon fall. I loved the cardboard standees of Patrick Wilson and Halle Berry, too. Oh, they were the actual actors?! Bwhah-haaaa-haaa!!

Horrible singing. Horrendous host. It's The X Factor for karaoke singers and people who shout along to their car radios.