Nursing a brutal hangover this afternoon, I went and saw The Dark Knight Rises for a second time. This time it was at the Melbourne Museum I-Max theatre, renowned for being the 3rd largest cinema screen in the world. At 7 storeys high, it’s 3 storeys higher than the largest building (excluding silos) in my home town of Devonport. That’s a pretty fucking large screen (and a pretty depressing statistic for my home town).

It was the first time I’d ever stepped foot inside an I-Max theatre and there were some distinct differences between it and the normal cinematic offering to which I’ve become accustomed. For starters, it was inside a museum. If I fancied a look at the cultural artefacts of the ancient Mesopotamians after the movie, I could’ve just walked up some steps and I’d be in there. Secondly, there aren’t any advertisements or trailers before an I-Max film. You sit down and the movie starts. (After a boring-as-fuck introductory movie with some fun facts about I-Max theatres loops 300 times. Did you know that I-Max film travels at 1.7 metres per second? Additionally, each of the custom-built I-Max projectors emits 15,000 watts of light. As a comparison, your normal household light globe only emits 60 – 100 watts, astonishing!)

As I said, it looped several times…

To be honest, I would’ve preferred a few trailers before the action started. Advertisements however, can fuck right off. Every time I have to see that piece of shit washed-up ex-Australian Idol host Andrew G(insberg) on screen before a movie starts, it makes me want to cut myself and drown him in a bathtub full of overpriced post-mix Pepsi Max, not necessarily in that order.

When the screen finally kicked to life, it was initially a little disorienting, like there was too much information on the screen all at once. I felt like Malcolm McDowell in the film adaptation of A Clockwork Orange when he was forced to undergo the fictional Ludovico Technique, somehow unable to look away despite the building feeling of nausea in my stomach. After a few minutes of adjustment however, I settled in.

“Please, no, STOP! One more cheesy one-liner from Hathaway and I’ll die…”

Five things I took away from The Dark Knight Rises:

a)      Tom Hardy gives an amazing performance as Bane. – Significantly more inspired than the meathead in Joel Schumacher’s take on the franchise. Intelligent, articulate and fucking ginormous. Well played sir.

b)      Anne Hathaway’s character was super lame and repeatedly cringe-worthy. I wished for the entire movie that Bane would turn up and break her back. I doubt there’d be a sassy one-liner following that encounter… I also love that Christopher Nolan is renowned as a class above your Michael Bay types, but when in her catsuit, Hathaway’s arse is somehow strategically positioned to inexplicably catch the light flare in every single shot, even in complete darkness.

c)       That motorbike is ridiculous. – Do the wheels really have to do that spinny thing when it takes corners? Can’t it just turn like a regular bike? I mean, fuck it, I’m willing to suspend my disbelief to a point but c’mon, are you fucking serious with that bike?

d)      Marion Cotillard is an astonishingly good actress (despite a very ordinary death-scene) and also incredibly attractive without the aid of spandex. She has won an Academy Award, can sing like a sweet, delicate songbird and speaks two languages. No further comment required.

e)      Nobody clapped at the end of this screening. This made me very happy. People who clap at the end of films or when a passenger jet lands safely on a runway should be lined up against a wall in a non-descript back-alley, unceremoniously shot with hollow-point bullets from a high-calibre rifle and dumped in the nearest skip bin with the rest of that days’ refuse. Absolute fucking morons.

/end communication

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