So, I saw the movie Gravity this evening. And then I threw up a spleen through my nose. This movie has managed to garner in two hours all the boredom experienced by any life form in all universes of time infinite. George “pay attention to my teeth”Clooney - yawned just a few lines taken from 1940s grade B westerns. Mercifully, he dies early, but still has enough time to have us suffer through his monotonous signature, not so subtle- Aren’t I impish smirk. Sandra “I really should stay with slapstick and snorting, looks of exasperation every 30 seconds” Bullock - attempts to save at the end, this steaming pile that redefines failure with some pitiful symbolism that any sixth-grader would eye-roll at. And insofar as my capabilities are now limited with the affliction of Tourettes Syndrome, barking illogical reactionary anger to the torture suffered, scarred for the rest of my days in reaction to. That’s all there is, folks. Just two celluloid heroes with no more ability to act than anyone you might meet on the street ... annnd lots of shots of outer space which loses it’s appeal in the first 3 minutes, considering it’s basically the same shot that never ends with little variation or aspiration. Which grasps much the same, paralleling the conversations Hollyweird sycophants will shower each other with void of shame, highlighted in unabashed arrogance supreme. Those sublime accolades insincere, bandaged in adjectives misunderstood thrown to any undeserved to achieve any end.
Treat “Gravity” as a comedy and it’s much more enjoyable.