I recently received a text message that read: Do you want to see 'Beowulf at the Imax this evening?'. It's almost fine, but there's something odd about it isn't there? Something out of place.
The information is just a touch too weird to go straight in, so for a second it feels as though I'd intercepted a message from one stoned teenager to another. It's a bit like someone suggesting Rambo at the Drive-In, or saying 'Schindler's List at my niece's place... lol', or even 'Want to come watch Bambi with me...at work?' These are all strange and deeply unappealing offers and should under no circumstances be agreed to. So I went.
||I could review it for you but I fear that would end with me wailing, crying and beating at the keyboard with my fists until my computer broke.
It might now be no major surprise that what unfolded there was the worst cinematic experience of my life. Worse even than Bewitched. Worse than The Legend of Gator Face, a film about a man with an alligator's head who lived in a swamp and cried a lot. It didn't make me disappointed, or amused at its badness, it made me angry. I could review it for you but I fear that would end with me wailing, crying and beating at the keyboard with my fists until my computer broke. So it is as good (and far less traumatic) to tell you what my partner that evening resolved after the credits rolled. Wide eyed, as if she'd seen the apparition of a deceased relative, she said: 'I have to stop people from seeing this movie'.
Enough! That's enough about Beowulf. Let's talk about being 27 and feeling old. I've just had a friend's girlfriend describe my shoes as 'immense', so I looked at them, then back and her and said, 'Yes, size 11s. I suppose they are quite immense.' Her 19-year-old face blinked back perplexedly, her brow furrowed. I tried again. 'Oh, um, you mean immense as in cool? Ah, I see. Thank you, then.' At that precise moment I felt 150 years old, a grandfather being told about cell phones, an uncle dancing like a hippie at a wedding in 2007. And then, as I always do in such situations, I thought about all the friends I have who are older than me and smiled. Denial is never wise, but it can also be soothing.
So welcome to the The Wrap It Up issue, the final broadcast of a World Cup winning 2007. Christmas will occur between this and your next Extra Virgin fix, so if you're involved in that most bittersweet of holidays then we'll see you, broke but with several pairs of new socks, in the New Year. If not, enjoy laughing at those who have to spend their Christmas bonuses on presents. I know I would.
Also, we're giving away loads cool stuff! Just cause we feel like it.