Double Dragon (1994)

“Unholy Ug-Lee-ness”
My first acquaintance with the Double Dragon feature film was during my vacation, in an open summer theatre, in 1994. I remember that when I walked out of that theatre, it took me some time to come to my senses, to think what I had just had seen, and then I reconsidered throughly all my ill fated experiences in cinema up to that point. Then in a realization of utter disappointment but also amazement, I told to myself, “Damn. This is the worst movie I’ve ever seen!”
Back then I was only thirteen, and since then I have witnessed many horrors on the silver screen. Now, I would have had a pretty endless and pointless struggle answering to myself about just which is the worst movie I’ve ever seen, and if Double Dragon hasn’t moved one bit down the fail-scale all over these years. After trying to watch it one more agonizing time, I came into conclusion that Double Dragon isn’t the worst film I’ve ever seen, but it is surely the most stupid film and certainly the most horrid and unworthy video game adaption.
Double Dragon was a great, addictive, cult status video game that shaped the fighting video games genre and personally cost me a lot of time and coin to walk right through its end, hitting buttons like hell. It was the first video game I came to see its credits by my own right, and – damn – it felt good for a kid! So, I’m double biased. But that doesn’t change anything. Although video game based movies have a totally deserving infamous rumor encircling them, this movie sets a total new abysmal record. Super Mario preceding this movie was a moronic gross, but still more decent that this one. And what can I say about Bam Bam Van Dam’s Street Fighter and Lambert’s Mortal Combat? The first had smoking hot Kyle and cheesy Julia and the second had at least pretty good fight choreographies and soundtrack. Both landmarks of silliness, sloppiness, kitsch and dreadful execution – both look like masterpieces to Double Dragon.
Nothing can prepare the viewer for the purely emetic experience that the film proper represents. The only faithful features of the video game adaption are the title, some names and some… villain innuendoes. The first problem lies in the screen writing. What made the video games so compelling was that they made as little effort as possible to differentiate its setting from the reality of the player. The story, such as it was, was secondary to people beating each other senseless. In the feature film, the writers attempt in the most ridiculous fashion to give the story of Double Dragon a background, a motivation, or a reality. All these are getting drowned right from the first scenes in totally punk-pulp shallowness and silliness. They manage to get all three in the trash can, as everything in this film comes out the same way: incredibly ugly (or “ug-lee” as stated one of the worst, recurring lines of the film) and inconceivably stupid. Making matters worse is some incredibly awful costume design. I do not know who designed Alyssa Milano's attire for this flick, but I am just betting they spent much of the time when they first saw what they had made laughing their ass off at poor Alyssa. How can anyone go further than Charmed after such an appearance? Whoever designed the makeup effects for the Abobo character should have been arrested for crimes against the 7th Art. I do not know exactly what they were trying to achieve with all the lumpage on his body, but whatever that was, they failed. Perhaps his “best” scene is when Milano is force-feeding him spinach in a torturing (mostly for the viewer) full of farts and burps scene. By the way, heed this warning: don’t even dare to think that the words “satire” or “purposely” can have anything to do with this movie – it is blown way out of proportion, hope and expectation.
The direction is just a cinematic abortion of the worst kind. Loose-ended fighting scenes make everyone look like fighting potato sacks, shots erupt in a chaotic walkthrough, and total chaos embedded in puke jokes and petty dialogue make you feel pity even for the wires and cameras that got involved in this thing.Casting was an even more disastrous element that totally destroyed fans’ brains and actors’ career. Alyssa Milano is a teen-street-clown, Kristina Wagner is a boring 80s blonde chick right out from a rock video clip, Scott Wolf is a perky-karate-kid-Tom-Cruise who never cried wolf again after this film, Marc Dacascos doesn’t even bother do all those great choreo that usually does in every film besides trying to act, and Robert Patrick is just an unlucky lame. What a fucking shame of uneasiness we‘ve got here. Dacascos just after the Crow and Patrick after Terminator 2 could have easily fired up their way to permanent stardom and success, at a point that both their careers still had a chance. But what seemed an obvious choice after the Crow and T2 to them and their agents? Double Dragon. Double the idiocy, misfortune and ill-fast-decision and you‘ve got two sparkly cine-figures, ridiculously self-destroyed in the same movie to blame. Even Julia Nickson-Soul that miraculously managed to pull her part through decently… do you even remember her?? Bad & Sad. Anyway, the word “terrible” can not instil or describe the double terror of the natural retard-ness of a wanna be unintentional comedy and a freaking fucked-up flick. You must be wicked hardcore if you can seriously sit through this. I was back in those days, but not anymore.

Alone in the Dark (2005)

I am really glad that I threw another one and a half hour of my life in the shit-hole, because without this movie I truly would have forgotten of how great naturally untalented examples like Christian Slater, give contradictious meaning to the whole Hollywood display.
I haven’t played the video game, but I really hope that this movie is very loosely based on it. If I had, maybe I would have sacrificed more of my time in this article risking permanent brain damage – a terrible loss indeed! Probable license defilement present though – as usual for VG adaptations.
Every thriller and mystery movie cliché is stuffed and stiffed here in the most inexperienced, discontinued, retarded fashion: childhood trauma, a mad scientist, a HOT scientific chick with an attitude (Tara Reid, please keep on sucking, but NOT in such a movie!), life–beaten hero with amnesia, tricks & tracks & artifacts, military heat, old & new gizmos and weapons of peculiar uses, ancient evils that lurk in the dark (when they show their face you know they should have been kept in the dark), CGI enough to suck, sudden moves, black-op macho-bullshit, unearthed arcana, hosts, psy-zombies and possessors all in one flick, pyramid origins (anything from Mumm-Ra and Gi-Joe to Transformers seem to have spawned from an Egyptian or South American lost civilization these days, just for the supposed coolness of it) paranormal poo, superstitions backed up by one-liner nonsense, quirky action, cheap sentimentalisms and video game cut scenes dressed in video clipping soundtrack.
Nice title though – but not even slightly close to make a cult legend out of this one.
The plot doesn’t have any holes or gaps at all. It has gorges Grand Canyon style. Improbable set-ups, explanations from the outer space, captive monsters which you don’t even know how they come to be in captivity, a love scene out of the blue and out of order, open ended chaos and total mess in every aspect.
The direction is on top of the worst, looking like a remarkably awful patchwork of B-series episodes, and when I say B, I REALLY mean BAD!
Of course the performances are to be forgotten even before you notice them, if you even get to notice them among the zero chemistry between the protagonists and the provocative shallowness of the characters in general.
Better alone in the dark than in the company of the non-talented-lot. Call me a sick person, but after this one, I deeply missed Silent Hill, Blade Trinity and even Resident Evil 2.

Terminator Salvation (2009)

I won’t even start with the – whow about a hundred word script?? Better movies had less. I don’t even attempt to tread in this endless minefield full of plot holes and troublesome inconsistencies. The Terminator timeline already laid in a shattered loop of dismay since T3, and SCC only made things worse – all things considered, a pretty satisfying series besides this.
But here, the timeline of mishap becomes a highway to hell because the only thing that feels like Terminator in this movie is the title and the very short – but by the time it takes place, rather NEEDED BABY – CG Arnie cameo.
Although video-clipper McG does his best to make a difference here, his best is hardly enough, enough only to succumb to the also video-clipping plot. In the first two Terminators the suspense was nerve wrecking and the feeling of everything running right to a dead end was eminent. Here, this spirit is not even a suspicion. “Quick” and “easy” dough. Everything run so darn fast and easily in this movie, not in an action packed sense, but in a sense that someone – maybe McG himself or the producers or even both – tries to get it over with. “If they want this Kyle Reese, he has to be my father”. Easy. Infiltrating Skynet’s HQ? Easy. Nukes laying around for a quickie blast? Easy. Fast & easy pacing through post apocalyptic hell on earth, quick & easily proved correct assumptions that will put the story going. A story better dragged by its own hair that is. The whole easiness makes you more and more uneasy as the film progresses, leading to maybe one of the most scrawled and blown out of proportion endings in film history.
McG still tried pretty hard to prove something, proving only that he just hasn’t got neither the grip nor the experience on certain techniques and executions. He seems like experimenting in many paths, but not yet deciding which one to take, leaving the movie with bits and bytes of angles, takes and effects that do not hold on each other and certainly do not help the already loose and lost story. We witness an inner struggle between the clipper and the director he wants to become, or maybe again just the usual struggle between direction and production. Either way, DD (Director’s Dichognomy) plagues the film. Sometimes the lengthy extra full-close ups remind the viewer that a clipper is always a clipper. Other times the film zooms out to a more world-cinematic experience, but without really a good point. Sometimes the landscapes feel like taken out of some epically correct Fallout 3 artwork. Other times, they feel fake and overly stylized. Sometimes the action, the fights and the intense moments feel gritty & grind to the point that you think Pvt. Ryan will pop up and save Connor and the day. Other times the action is choppy, loose ended to the point of unfulfilled and well, all the figments, ideas and set-ups are rather silly and showing off all around without the appropriate artistic or plot incentive back up.
But even if all these were just me, there is a certain “detail” that squeezes every good intention back to the wall: PG-13. McG vs. PG, score 0 - 13. Well, PG-13 is becoming a cancerous factor for the whole movie industry by ruining realism and action integrity in countless movies, but especially for an instance such as this, it’ s like 13 nails in the casket.
Counter to my long last last expectations, not even the effects succeed totally. CGI was all over the place in WHOWs, Ka - BOOMs and too many uber – unreal CG stunts performed by humans, android and machines alike – Connor himself throws a whole volley of napalm just to kill Marcus, and, naturally, he misses. The hovering robo-ship presence is too much as well in the movie, and not very convincing either, and there are certain, and far from few, scenes where the special effects weaknesses are more than obvious. And after all this quick processed larger than life mediocrity, at the end titles the movie is dedicated to Stan Winston. I’d rather it didn’t. Really.
As the viewer is caught between momentous amazement and continuous puzzlement, so are the characters. A, by all means, not any more story driven action movie, gets jammed with what it seems to be too many main characters and none of them properly distinguished or just interesting, leading to, well, more “quick” and “easy” decisions trying to "un-jam" the whole undertaking. Is it a “duet” movie? Does “Wright & Connor” means “Denim & Leader” or something?? Everyone again seem to try their best, once more at no satisfying end.
Christian bale pulls through a pretty steadfast, resilient and appropriately doubtful John – lieutenant-to-be-leader - Connor, for the purposes of this movie, although his cocky/frisky/butchy/barky Batman accent is becoming a running joke in his performances. By the way, if you watch Christian Bale’s interview for the behind the scenes TS Making Of, you will certainly get the tip that he was at long last aware that he made a mistake signing in a pretty doomed boat. Sad to watch that one.
Cameron’s future mega star, Sam Worthington, seems worthy of his recommendations. But, for hard evidence on this, better look in to a past or future film. By all means, Worthington is absolutely right for the part. It is Marcus Wright that is wrong. A wrong, misplaced and “quick” and “easy” unfolded character that, hell, everyone knew what his “great mystery” was all about in the first place! Hunk and funk guy that both my girlfriend and my boyfriend would want to do him, wearing Mad Max trench coats and boots, lacking the Max attitude because, well, he is a shy, good and determined boy and because, oh well, he can’t be Mad Max because he is kinda Rick Deckard from the Blade Runner too. What the fuck does all these say about just how fucked up this character is?? I really don’t think that even the most “prog” of the fan base will miss this guy.
Helena Bonham Carter acts her goth/psycho self as a Cyberdyne exec and later Skynet avatar, where I certainly wanted a more cold, less talk and more calculative and domineering approach. Shit, I think I even missed the old-fart "godputer" from Matrix 3!
Bryce Dallas Howard is a good actress on her own right and a more worthy “woman behind the great man” than princess Claire Danes in T3, even if there, John Connor was far from a “great man” in every way. Howard gives the right emotional touch to now-made-man-Connor, and that’s pretty much all of it concerning her or the uh – supporting cast in general.
For the rest of the cast, is full of the usual typecast, unnecessary necessities. Everyone was there:
Michael Ironside usual overall cult tough-assness is a little bit put aside, laid back to a point of disappointment. Not tough enough, not smart mouthed, no Command & Conquer militarism, not the Richter that we all love to see in the parties.
The Common – a common black rapper/hopper that, as I stated in the past, every film got to have one just for anti-racism correctness – but otherwise “fuck him if he ain’t no hoppa ‘cause da fool hommies won’t swarm in to da theata”.
Moon Bloodgood is a not that bloody good actress or even model, but certainly a bit above the average hottie that one encounters in Maxim pages during his morning masturbation workouts. Too hot to be needless, in an otherwise needless part.
The cute little Goonie girl that, again, every movie got to have one to Stand by Me and the protagonist, playing aaalways a keeey role at the end of our tale, dad. Swarm you too kiddies! Well, I was born in the 80s too guys, but fuck me if I hadn’t enough of this crap already!
Anton Yeltchin is the only kind of “supportive” support actor. Seems he did his homework on the previous Kyle Reeses and the outcome…well the outcome just deserved a little more screen time – as a Skynet’s “public enemy number one” ought to have. After all, this wasn’t a John Connor centred Terminator movie, and just sadly enough, not a terminator centred Terminator movie.
But, why’s that… Was this really a Terminator film after all or just a film with terminators present from now and then??
When Cameron ruled the world, the terminator endoskeleton looked like a metallic, meta-human evolution infused with the humanity’s own demonic appetite for destruction, furious never ending expansion and domination. A nightmarish self-image of a scientifically gorged human being, losing control and getting controlled in fingers snapped Armageddon. The genius in Cameron’s vision was not machines destroying humans – every last sci-fucko has done that before and many more will keep on doing it – but actually humanity destroying itself through its own end-game, iron-godly image. Cameron didn’t lack the technology back then to pack his movies with all kinds of popular-to-be, flying, walking, and swimming bullshit-bots. After a decade of Star Wars, Star Treks and all kinds of shooting stars and the b-punk-culture that emerged afterwards, the “quick” and “easy” blockbuster step would have been doing another fucking creature & robo gallery movie. But he didn’t. Because this wasn’t the point. T3 made a hell of a bad start. And now T4 spoiled it all entirely. Semi-transformers, MDK like behemoths, bots, dots, flagships, flying saucers, “reptilecans”, and other fan deceptive Decepticons parade throughout the whole movie, performing all kinds of anti-physics tricks, most of the time in just better than average CGI.
And what about the today’s salvaged terminators? (Not even a decent joke that is!) Where the terminator was the out most mocking and threatening icon of humanity, the new “production line” lost all the menacing, destructive, emblematic and even metaphysical qualities – for they literally had a meta-physics status considering them over the top of common human technology and invention. Here, there are some early modelled T-600 pieces of junk, that keep on engaging in hand-to-hand combat with humans, a strategy in which iron and steel proves surprisingly incapable over flesh and bone. Sometimes ammo sweats to penetrate, sometimes the same ammo turns them into cheese, either way you can hardly be convinced that this tin-heads can enforce total human annihilation in a global scale even after a nuclear holocaust. Shooting targets. Scrap for rap and take away. But that’s really ok in showing Skynet’s own evolution and pointing out the difference later with I-don’t-stop-no-matter-shit, T-800 model. And to be the most devilish of the devil’s advocates, I owe to point out too that showing how Skynet got more and more knowledgeable on human nature, evolving its agents from petty zombie-like human imposters to Marcus’ perfection, was the one and only great idea of the film, pretty well executed.
But, even that is not the case I’m grumbling about. It is the hard boiled metallic backbone of the core concept, gone soft, weak, melted down all the way to dump and dumper resolutions. The mocking, cold, threatening but all so familiar metallic scull, had given a clear message: Humanity has all the capability to totally fuck up, and if it does, it’s done. In a total of less than five minutes of flash forwards in the post apocalyptic future, Cameron gives in T1 & 2 a sense of bleakness, dread, despair and hopeless annihilation that McFuck totally fucked up to do so in a 115-minute film. When you first see the shiny metal crushing the bleached, equally mindless human scull, then you know it: there is no turning back. Even Sarah Connor's last gaze into the stormy horizon does not give promises or raise expectations. No second chances. No prophecies to be fulfilled do fulfil and amend things. No deus ex machina. No priests to once more wipe clean your sorry, all sinful and yet again sinful ass. No fucking JCs (John Connors or Jesus Christs) to hug you firmly in your last downfall to moral darkness and mental forfeit. Every decision is a turning point that cannot be undone. That’s a hell of a difference and not a movie that any fucking kid will go see and sleep comfortably in its bed right after. The last light and pop corn instalment goes on exactly the opposite direction. No matter how hard you fuck up there is always hope and, by the way, it metaphors in the following, movie concluding, and bombastic reasoning: Connor is iron-staked right through his heart and not only survives the wound and the transfer to the HQ – oh because the transfer chopper was totally unaffected by EMP triggered by the last, totally easy, nuclear ka-boom – but taking his time, the next day Marcus gives his own heart in a tearful self-sacrifice, through a totally easy, cool and fantastic heart surgery, in ideal post apocalyptic facilities and conditions, that, of course, we don’t even get to see just how a heart is swapped like a video game cartridge. Eat your heart Magdi Yacoub! Then, when at last the good ol auntie Hope is restored, the messiah rides on his chopper in the coal-red sunset, mumbling last minute epic gibberish.
Was THIS what you’ve been waiting for six – or should I say eighteen – years?? Now think again – when you lowered your expectations with a little help from T3, was still THIS movie up to your minimum expectations??? Maybe some all-bright, hot-shot movie execs thought that if I just heard “You could be Mine” and cult past lines, and saw some old Sarah photos and a little phony Arnie, that would sent me off to shit my pants in joy and gratitude. Well, these guys and their briiilliant movies are the reason that the word “fanboys” tends to become synonymous to “retarded”
Well then, see you each other guys in the next sequel in a theatre near you, because I’ll probably download that one illegally once more.

P.S. Is there a certain feeling in watching post apocalyptic themed movies in good quality cam, or is it just me?

Angels & Demons (2009)

Science and Religion. Light and Darkness. Truth and Lies. Matter and Antimatter. All destined to cataclysmically neutralize each other in a single touch, with any small or epic scale, “evil” or “good” plan to compromise these values, destined to fail in the long run. Those were the simple, core concepts of the Angels & Demons novel by Dan Brown. Or shall I rather NOT elegantly put it – Matter of Fact and Matter of Fucked. Oh well, by the time Camerlengo Patrick McKenna proclaims, like a fairy queen on a white unicorn among the holy, devil-clad male hags “Open the doors, and tell the world the truth” you know that something is terribly wrong, preposterous and sometimes outright ridiculous about this movie.
The official Christianity all over the world that lunched a counter campaign against The Da Vinci Code some years ago, now can as well lunch a promotional campaign for this movie which is not just out of the novel’s text, but totally out of context. A backed up by research statement that puts churchyard imagery, tailored ethics and primeval beliefs right to the stake, seems to be reduced to a mumbo-jumbo dynamic dialogue taken from a light or even trash tv show, starring loud-mouthed “religiosos” and I-only-care-for-my-show-off, coward, venal and fallen scientists. Everyone will walk happy from this movie, so safe of the punditry of their beliefs, so sure that two millennia of contradiction and collision between reason and unreasonable, progress and legalized doctrine violence, is just a misunderstanding that can be mended with peace, love, “laughiness”, understanding and unconditional pot. A novel that advocates and advances common sense through an entertaining, masterwork thriller, turns into just an entertaining thriller dressed up in common sense the way a wolf fits in sheep’s clothes. Apart from the obvious light-hearted and heavy-pocketed producers, the architect of this “diplomatic achievement” is ones more the infamous from Batman and Robin Akiva Goldsman, bane of all franchises and originality as a virtue. Koepp, the co-writer, had his time with Spider Man and Jurassic park, but here they both act like mercenary nuns, who tread lightly between the “religiosos’” softness and umbrageousness and everyone else’s nerves. Needless to say that if Goldsman haven’t had so unexpectedly pointed out the best of the Da Vinci Code in the prequel, he would have added a new fan base in his mortal enemy collection – the Dan Brown fans. The not so willing caretaker of this “diplomatic achievement” is the main protagonist itself. I think that the possible miscast Tom Hanks looks more like Robert Langdon in this movie than the previous one, though he neither speaks nor acts in a Professor’s magnitude. But it is actually the screenplay again that, especially regarding his part, turns everything upside – down to, should I say, sacrilegious proportions. Movie Langdon is so deliberately naïve for a Harvard professor that you couldn’t pass the criticism even if you wanted to. When Langdon argues his worst in front of priests bragging on years ago downfallen clichés, it is really a shame for the novel reader to watch. For example, when the Camerlengo says something like “Science is too young to understand religion*” Langdon immediately self-destructs in jerkiness and political correctness. Well guys, in a more than 6.000.000 years humanoid span, high intelligence is also “very young” to understand religion (even if it understands it and promotes it veeeery well if need be), but it is still the best thing we’ve got, the thing that parts us and protect us from beasts and elements, the thing that can even expose our own fears and religious follies. Ok, Langdon occasionally gives historical facts and figures that will shake people from now and then, but generally he acts like a freshman, unsure of his knowledge and abilities. His overpowered by priesthood’s punch lines figure, goes well along with the lack of scientific backup the movie suffers, back up that every Dan Brown hands-on is full and proud of. By seemingly not being aware of the critical close to conclusion Universal Model of Existence, the Origins of Species and so much solid evidence of the chanceful structure and mechanics of evolution – in which a god factor doesn’t fit not even in the bottom line references – Langdon becomes both the bread and the butter of dogmatic mumble. In the novel, Langdon is an academic icon, a well made archetype of how a successful researcher owes to be. A self-confident man, who knows the nature of things and puts them to good use, even near the end at HIS long-shot escape from the helicopter. In the movie he is a less than meets the eye wuss, ready to succumb to punny inner faith struggles and crumble like an old lady, the first time a wise looking smooth talker hits him with a slick verbal sophistication.
Ayelet Zurer plays the totally diminished and unrecognized character of novel’s Vittoria Vetra by doing nothing important in the whole movie apart from showing off her charming Italian accent and elegant figure. Even the romance with Langdon was totally out off the picture so… so much for the appearance anyway! Easy task. Easily executed. Easy to watch.
I’ve never liked Ewan McGregor, and this movie makes no difference. Not as a bon viveur. Not as a Jedi. Not at all. He is typically less than the circumstances call for, so held back, always in such an unwanted control. Well in this movie he got more control than his naturally asks for. Akiva Goldsman, who still tries to make peace with the movie gods, now once again takes the downward slope putting everyone on a pretty short lease – except maybe from the numerous police/security b-characters that were surprisingly well highlighted in the movie – I give you that Aki! The fact that the screenplay was caught between the Writers Strike last year is a good excuse, but good excuses generally spawn bad themes and characters. Pope’s aide in the novel is a methodical, power hungry, criminally malevolent MAN WITH A PLAN. Not an under acted 40 year old virgin, who tries desperately to balance and convince as a conspirator, murderer, schemer and master hypocrite, lost between all predictable religious politeness, village spiritualism and personal gain.
In this movie “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark” and this is certainly not the Danish actor Nikolaj Lie Kaas. The blind pawn, fooled and doped with Vatican mischievousness, fanatic Islamite Hashshashin, through typical for the movie politically correct process, became a colourless and ideologically harmless every day assassin that suited the movie just fine. But this time the actor really plays his part – even a small one like this. He is cold, cool, pretty threatening on the screen and even dominating sometimes, a steadfast stand-out figure among the rather un-cool, hot-shots. I don’t think that it would be an exaggeration to say that he single handedly delivers the best action packs in the movie without acting boastful or unrealistic.
And when almost all else fail (except from the assassin and the great soundtrack) Ron Howard comes to save the day. At least, until you think about the movie twice. He is Goldsman’s accomplice – no doubt about that – but he is illustrious, has a golden eye for action and his pacing – although the movie sometimes feels pretty long – pays the only authentic tribute to the novel. Without doing very much of anything else than acting sensibly, he does the trick and earns his money. The whole movie becomes grandeur of Rome sightseeing, clever commerce, especially rregarding Lancia, is everywhere and the thrilling moments are always catchy and well-shot but without an overall satisfying climax. Flat-out against the clock action, that does not share the prequel’s long philosophical pauses for discussion and controversy, but then critical content of the novel and plot points are missing here to allow a different treatment. Howard lets all characters breathe at the best of the movie’s abilities – so sad that they aren’t allowed by the screenplay to say all that “was initially on their mind”.
All things considered, the Da Vinci Code was a calculated punch in the stomach as a novel and an uppercut for the masses as a movie. The movie Angels & Demons is, at times, just a politically correct puke from the stomach. It looks good and exhilarating, it promises dramatic detoxification, but in the end it just smells bad, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. A masterpiece that never chewed its words and intentions turns into a mass entertainment image, that pampers religious people for all that is worth. Even if this movie doesn’t belong to this blog – and this is probably true – it doesn’t belong where it should and that’s a great loss and even greater annoyance.
For a few dollars more and a few law suits less, an opportunity to adapt a “people changer” novel into an equally powerful movie, is forever lost.


P.P.S. Actually science is much older than religion. When the hominidae ancestor before the human-chimpanzee genome split, took a stone for the first time and use it to brake-open fruit, he applied – without realizing – the scientific rule and reasoning: she saw and visualized the stone against the fruit (observation), she tried the stone against the fruit (experiment), when successful she put it again in use (retrial) and after succeeding multiple times she adopted this way (method) of braking-open fruits. This was long before standing on her hinder legs, using a stick or having even the most basic inquiry about things such as the origin of the sun, the moon and the rest of the natural world, including her. We can flash back on this principle by looking at today’s chimpanzees. They learn to use crude tools and can teach their use to each other, but they are far from any abstract conception of the divine. On the contrary to the popular, media infested, belief that science is an ultra highly perplexed obscurity, remotely far from the human average, the truth is that the scientific…Holy Triad (observation, experiment and retrial) in its core concept, is accessible and useable even by animals. Cause & consequence, evident reality and practicality are simple and reachable. Complex delusions are those requiring complex brains.