Conan - A strong contender or a damp squid?

Well last night I saw the new version of Conan The Barbarian.
Now many of you out there, like me, will remember the original 1982 version starring non other than the Governator himself Arnold Schwarzenegger with fond memories and will have been very weary of this new version from the off set. But lets get one thing straight, this is not a remake, its a new Conan film. A fresh origin story, entirely different from the 82 film. So don't expect to know the story, even though there are similarities.
Warning the following contains spoilers. So read at your own peril.....

The movie starts with a bloody battle in which Conan's mother and father are knee deep in violence and bloodshed. Unfortunately Conan's mother falls foul of a sword and his father (played by the excellent Ron Pearlman) has to perform an emergency C-Section (yeah you read that right) So he gazes into his wife's eyes, lifts his sword and plunges it into her belly. How the hell he didn't slice the babies head off I have no idea (with that luck he should have put the lottery on as well) What follows is a scene directly lifted from The Lion King, baby is held aloft for all to see. Remember theres a battle going on right now but what the hell lets let the enemy use a baby for target practice. Told you this guy was one hell of a lucky dude that day. What follows for the next 30 minutes or so is Conan growing into a teen, proving his worth as a warrior, learning the value of a well made sword and the destruction of his village. Once his father has been killed by the evil warrior, with a major god complex, Khalar Zym. He then runs off into the wilderness and the next time we See him hes transformed into Jason Mamoa.
Now Jason does make a worthy Conan and is certainly more suited for the role than Arnold was (cue the screams of protest from all the devotees) After all Arnold can never be accused of being a good actor, something that Jason is certainly more capable of.
So the adult Conan sets out take revenge on his fathers killer.
A quick word about the, afore mentioned, killer Khalar Zym. He is played, quite capably, by Stephen Lang (Crazy army dude from the terrible but money making Avatar) and makes for an interesting bad guy but, theres always a but, the 82 film had James Earl Jones as a bad guy. Come on people this is the voice of Darth Vader himself, just the voice alone makes for a good bad guy but add in the man as well and you've got some mighty hard size 11s that Stephen had to fill. Something he just doesn't manage to do (even though he had a far more acceptable hair style than the dodgy mop that J. E. Jones was forced to wear) Now at Khalars side is his faithful witch of a daughter, and I mean that literally, Marique (played excellently by Rose McGowan, girl with machine gun leg in Planet Terror) and she is the real menace of the film as is proven when she conjors up some soldiers made of sand in one of the many, and I mean many, action scenes. The amount of action scenes is one of the problems in a lot of Hollywood films these days and this one is no exception. With all the action that is going on there is barely enough time for a story to develop but we still manage to get from A to B. All be it rather sparingly on the detail and emotional content.
As the film moves on our friendly neighbourhood barbarian ends up baby sitting a woman that Khalar needs the blood of in order to power a mask that will allow him to bring back his wife from the dead, conquer the world and get all the bugs out of the latest version of windows. Or something like that. Now this woman was raised and educated in a monastery and even refers to herself as a monk. Problem is that no sooner has she had a change of clothes that she decides she wants to do the nasty with a dirty, sweaty barbarian. So much for a devout religious up bringing.
Of course this leads to Conan having to rescue his damsel in distress from Khalar at the end of the film. During the course of the rescue he calls in the help of the greatest thief / lock pick that there is to get him into Zyms lair. Unfortunately all this means is that this guy has a big bunch of keys? I mean why bring him along at all, just give Conan the keys and tell him to bring them back when hes finished. Surely dragging this poor dude along just makes it more difficult to get in without been seen.
Of course in the evil lair theres a sea monster in the dungeon, they must have run out of rancor's at Skywalker Ranch, then its on to rescue his woman before shes sacrificed and her blood used to empower the mask of all evil (its actually a mask made of kings bones or something) which once empowered clings to his face like a face hugger from alien. During the battle he must also battle Marique and her finger claws (ala Freddy Kruger, she even does the whole dragging of claws along a wall sparks flying) and several soldiers. The cavern where the final battle takes place must have been designed by the same guy who designed Medusa's lair in Clash Of The Titans. Its a totally impractical collection of platforms and sudden death ledges, I mean what was wrong with architects back then in days of legend, were they all high on LSD or something.
The film ends with Conan taking his, not so, fair lady home and then riding off into the sunset.
So after all this mocking and silliness what is my final judgement on the film.
Well it is certainly a better film than the original, and it is entertaining enough but would I recommend going to the cinema to see it.
No not really.
Wait for the Blu-Ray and enjoy it at home. After all the seats a comfier and the food is cheaper.

Till next time..

The voice has spoken.

Swimming, soon be time to let go

OK, so every Saturday Kara goes swimming. Shes been going to swimming lessons since she was 9 month old, we sometimes wish she had started sooner but to be honest shes confident enough now so I don't know how much difference it would have made.
All week shes a bit grumpy in the morning, she likes nursery but doesn't get excited by the thought of going so its a bit of a battle sometimes to get her to brush her teeth and get dressed etc. But on a Saturday its a different story. Shes dressed, teeth brushed, hands and face washed and ready to go. As soon as we start packing her bag she will tell me or Otilia that shes going swimming and she will carry on telling us right up to the point that were changing her into her costume at the pool.
Most of the time it is just me and Kara, mum stays home and cleans while we are away, but sometimes mum comes as well. Whether this is a good thing can vary from time to time as sometimes having mum at the edge of the pool can be a bit distracting for Kara. Though she does like showing off when shes jumping into the water, "Nany (She still calls Otilia that even though she can now pronounce her M's) look at Kara." She will shout just before taking a leap of faith of the side.
In September she will be 30 month and it will be time to advance onto the next level, this will mean that she goes into the pool on her own. No Daddy! I think I'm more upset about this than Kara will be.
But I have to admit I think shes ready for it as every week now she keeps trying to get out of my arms even though she will sink if I let go. Shes confident in the water but shes still too young to swim on her own, when she goes up in September she will be wearing a floatation backpack. Today during the five minutes play time break in the middle of the lesson I put the backpack on her for the first time. I expected her to complain about it and ask for it to be taken off but instead she just got on with things and acted like it wasn't there. Good girl.
So for the next 3 weeks it will be swimming with daddy as usual but then shes on her own. I have to admit with every passing week now it becomes more daunting. Having to let my little Boogie go in the pool on her own frightens and saddens me. Its been a journey we both shared until now but in 3 weeks she will be on her own.
I will be nothing but a spectator at the side of the pool. Boo Hoo.


The voice has spoken...

Till next time.

The Latest

 Well the weekend is over for us all (unless you live in a strange place where the weekend starts on a Monday) and its back to the reality of working life once again but the memories of the past weekend will live on a lot longer than the ones I gather at work.
On Saturday after taking little Kara swimming (shes getting to be a real water baby) we travelled south to the Watercress Line. A steam railway line that still runs between 4 stations. The reason for the trip was to meet Thomas the Tank Engine and friends. Needless to say Kara loved it, she smiled the whole day and no parent can ask for more can they.

After spending the day with Thomas we spent the night camping at the Sustainability Centre. A rather hippy type campsite with (very unglamourous) compost toilets, though there are some in a near by building and Teepee's that you can rent if you feel inclined to do so. I have to say though that looking in one of the Teepee's I wouldn't recommend it as they are basically just a canvas top and nothing below you so you are sleeping on what you bring with you and nothing else but dirt. And the edges aren't sealed neither so the wind blows through all night.
We stayed in our tent (a Berghause Cuillin) it has 2 rooms separated by a large living area. Large enough for us anyway and high enough to stand in. The last time we camped out Kara slept in the foot muff from her stroller but for this trip I bought her a sleeping bag. A cute little 2 season bag (a Vango Escape) that she absolutely loves and slept in soundly all night. Well for as long as a child can sleep under canvas, lets face it we all wake as soon as the sun comes up and go to bed later than usual.
The campsite was set in some beautiful woodland which me and Kara made full use off early Sunday morning as we went for a nature walk while Otilia slept a bit longer. Kara loved spotting the occasional rabbit or bird.
As we were packing up the clouds began to gather and, rather typically, a couple of minutes before I had finished packing the tent the heavens opened and I got slightly wet. the journey home was tiring but we made it back by mid afternoon. A good weekend was had by us all with many memories to carry in our hearts and a handful of pictures to make us smile for many years. Cant wait to view the videos.

Till next time..

The voice has spoken.

UNTITLED (cont)

10 hours and 42 minutes later
Hayling Island

The sun was kissing the horizon as it departed the English sky and as it did it cast one last shadow across the rough timber bridge leading to Hayling Island. That shadow was of the Prime ministers coach as it sped of the bridge and onto a dirt road. A few minutes later and the coach came to a sudden stop. "Why have we stopped?" Demanded the deputy Prime minister. "I thought we were headed to the south of the island!"
The driver leaned back and, without turning, shouted to his passengers, "I think you had better look at this sirs." The four passengers climbed out of the carriage and stared in disbelief at what lay before them. Ahead of them, maybe a mile away, hung a large metallic craft. From where they were stood it seemed to be hovering over the beach and out to see, motionless, silent. 60 meters across and twice as much in length. Dark in colour but reflective like a mirror with small peaks and domes on its top side but smooth as glass underneath. The Prime minister climbed back on board, "Come on," he barked, "get us to that thing now!"

The carriage stopped just at the edge of the pebble beach and the party of four stepped out. A wall of soldiers lined the beach as far as the eye could see and immediately ahead of them, like a giant pendulum, hung the strange craft. The reflection of the sea could be seen clearly on its surface and as the men gazed up at this thing their own reflections gazed back. "Major Cartwright, what can you tell us," asked the smoking man, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket. The major walked up to them and stood confidently between the men and the craft, "Yes sir." He said saluting as he did so. "The craft stopped a mile off to see but we've managed to pull it back to shore with minimum effort, however," he paused and turned to face the craft, "it seems to be dropping."
"Dropping?" said the Prime minister.
"Yes sir, dropping. My guess is its losing power."
Davenshore removed his hat and looked to the major, "How long till its grounded?"
The Major Looked up at the craft and then to Davenshore, "well, we estimate at the speed at which its dropped so far that we have three hours, maybe four at most."
"Then get as many men, horses, boats you can. Whatever it takes and get that thing fully ashore before its too late." Ordered the Prime minister.

Two hours later the craft was fully ashore and only three feet off the ground with bushes and trees crushed beneath its mass. The party of four had not said a word in all that time, just watching, observing. But now the deputy Prime minister spoke, "So what now sir," he asked his companions, "what do we do with it?" The four men looked at each other, each waiting for one of the others to speak. Finally it was Davenshore who did, "We investigate it," he said turning to face the craft, "we look for a way in and find out what we can." Just then there was a loud metallic groan and the whole craft fell to earth with a sound like roaring thunder. A cloud of dust shot into the air and the sound of a thousand soldiers, one Major, a Prime minister and his deputy and two of their staff coughing and choking filled the air. As the dust settled the Prime minister stepped over to the side of the craft and ran his hand down its surface, "Wheres the dust?" he asked himself.
"What sir?" asked his deputy.
"Look at us, covered head to toe with dust but this thing is as clean as when it first arrived." He turned to face his companions, "Wheres the dust?"
The deputy Prime minister stepped forward and slid his hand down the crafts smooth surface, staring intently at the greasy marks left by his fingers. slowly the grease slid like water from its surface and disappeared off the lower edge. He leaned in almost touching it and let out a warm breath. A small vapour mark appeared and then almost instantly disappeared. As he gazed at the craft he was caught by his own reflection gazing back at him. He stared hypnotically at his reflections eyes and suddenly he became aware that they were staring back at him.
"Are you alright sir?" asked Davenshore. The Prime minister, who was now speaking to the Major, turned to look at his deputy, "Jacob," he walked closer to his deputy, "Jacob look at me." Just then the deputy Priminister fell to the ground. The others ran to him and knelt around his body. The smoking man laid his fingers on the deputy Priministers neck. "His pulse is weak but still there sir," he said looking up at the Prime minister, expecting to see him looking back but instead found him staring at the craft. The smoking man rose and turned to see what the Priminister was looking at, "My God!" He said stepping back. Davenshore and the Major turned to see what was wrong and looking back at them from the crafts mirror like surface was the deputy Prime minister. The men gazed in silence as the reflection began to cry and then without warning screamed in silence and faded from existence. The Prime minister placed his hand on the Majors shoulder and looked down at his deputies body. Davenshore then checked for a pulse again but found none. "Hes gone sir," he said.
"Destroy it," the Priminister said in almost a whisper, "tune it to dust."
"And if we cant," asked the Major.
"Then bury it, remove it from memory."
The Priminister walked slowly to his carriage, his two remaining companions slowly followed him while the Major ordered a couple of his men to take care of the deputy Priministers body.
The Major walked over to the carriage and closed the door behind the three men. "There are witnesses sir, the locals."
"You will recieve orders Major," said the Priminister, "all will be taken care of in its own time." With that the carriage left the island and the Major set about disposing of the craft, one way or another.