SHERLOCK HOLMES
What follows will be a mixture of nonsensical rambling, fangirling and in some parts, actual analysis.

I didn't care that I went alone. It didn't matter to me at all. I was so damn excited. Beyond words. This entire year, everything I've read, the research into the books and the characters, the images I've collected, the clips I've watched - all of it has been leading up to this.

I loved it. It sure as hell didn't let me down. I was hooked inside of the first two minutes, and at points I didn't even realise I was clenched up until I let out my next breath. It was different. And screw all you people who just want to scrunch your face up and say that they've ruined the books and the stories - it's an adaption. Of course it's not going to be exactly the same as the books. Anyway, there almost certainly has to be a sequel, they talked too much and there were too many nods, hints and moments about Moriarty for there not to be.

"Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts."
It did, however, include dialogue from the novels - which made me grin - slotting them in so that you'd barely notice they'd already been written and read a million times before.

It had comedy, which was fantastic. But not in a stupid, slapstick way. It was clever with it, and all of it was necessary in the bigger picture. As with Holmes, everything is done for a reason. Even if it includes exploring his mastery of disguises or testing sleeping drugs on the dog.

The soundtrack was (and is) brilliant. It's been done by Hans Zimmer, so what do you expect? I ran pretty much from the cinema to HMV after the film to buy it, and I'm listening to it right now. The cinematography was gorgeous. It looked stunning, especially the night scenes on the river.

"Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent."
And obviously I can't write about the film without bringing up Robert Downey Jr. You can really tell he had fun with the character. He poured bits of himself into the character. He was funny, he was clever, he had all the little characteristics that make a good Holmes and he certainly looked the part. I love him. I just do. He was just what you want in your Holmes, totally reckless but completely brilliant.

The costumes were gorgeous, the props were brilliant, the stunts were fabulous but most of all the characters were believable. I don't know if that's just because it's me saying it, but it was just a fantastic, fun film.

The only problem with it was the fact that it ended. I'll DEFINATELY be going to see it again.

But for now, I'm happy knowing I was the first one, on national release day, in Guy Ritchie's home town (Hatfield) to buy a ticket for Sherlock Holmes.

DOCTOR WHO

Oh my God.

With the MASTER and the CRYING and the wonderful, wonderful BERNARD CRIBBINS and DONNA REMEMBERING and the TIME LORDS and OH MY GOD.

I DO NOT NEED THIS LEVEL OF EXCITEMENT AND EMOTION WHEN I AM GOING TO SEE SHERLOCK HOLMES TOMORROW.

[Coherant write up soon when I start breathing again.]

This is not a blog post.

This is a watch-this-amazing-video post.

Laura's Birthday Party Pictures!
(The better ones out of the selection, trust me.)

(L to R): Merlin, Sandy and Merlin, Monica:


(L to R): Sandy opening presents.


(L to R): Sandy and Jack, Absent!Caitlin and Jack.


(L to R): Sandy opening presents, party people.

Post-Screaming Iron Man 2 Trailer Analysis

Upon the announcement of Iron Man 2, a lot of people seemed despondent, and worried that it wasn’t possible for Jon Favreau to recreate the same mix of action and comedy that he’d done last summer. Iron Man was one of the most successful comic book movies in recent years and it was always going to be difficult to emulate that success.

However, the long-awaited trailer for Iron Man 2 has silenced those fears, and has set off the far too long 140 plus day countdown for what is surely going to be one of the highest grossing movies of 2010.

Right from the off, we are reminded of the perfect, hilarious and laid-back approach that Tony Stark has to the world – “We’re safe. America is secure. You want my property? You can’t have it! But I did you a big favour; I have successfully privatised world peace.” – followed by the rock star style peace signs that prove to us all that Tony Stark is still the playboy billionaire that we fell in love with in the first film.

Fans of the Tony and Pepper will they/won’t they rapport (myself included) are thrilled to see that Favs seems to have explored their relationship further, playing with the humorous dynamic that we know Robert Downey Jr can do so damn well. “Okay, give me a smooch for good luck, I might not make it back” suggests that the two of them have moved beyond the boss/personal assistant trap and are now open for possibilities. This is proved seconds later by Pepper’s kiss of the helmet, and Tony’s comical “You complete me!” as he leaps from the plane, echoing the “I don’t have anyone, but you” conversations in Iron Man.

I can’t explain how much I love the character of Tony Stark. I mean, the guy arrives to his own Stark Expo in his Iron Man suit, only to step out of it, on stage, and be wearing a tuxedo underneath it – “Oh, it’s good to be back!” – Indeed it is, Mr Stark, indeed it is. And my God, did I miss you.

Of course, we can’t have 2 and a bit hours of Tony flying around and charming every woman he finds, as much as we’d like that. Up to the plate steps Mickey Rourke as Whiplash. Rumour has it that Rourke visited Russian prisons and talked to inmates in order to gain an understanding of his character. “There will be blood in the water, and the sharks will come.” – and soon enough, Whiplash has arrived on the scene, well, actually it’s the Monaco Grand Prix race course, and wreaks havoc with his deadly whips, powered by his own miniaturized arc reactor.

And then we get what we all go and see these movies for: the explosions. Stark’s F1 car with the nose smashed off (thank you, Mr Whiplash), flipping through the air, rows and rows of cars being blown up under an onslaught of gunfire, I mean, seriously cool looking stuff.

As if it couldn’t get any better, the trailer ends with what many fans have been waiting for – the teaming up of Iron Man (Tony Stark) and War Machine (Rhodey). As if they knew that the shot of their helmets closing in canon was going to make us giddy, Favs decides to give us a sneaky peak at their combined power, War Machine with his many, many guns and Iron Man with his own bad-ass weaponry, ripping the crap out of what looks like an army of chunky Iron Man suit clones.

And there you have it. The trailer that we’ve all been waiting for. Or I have, anyway. A cast of big names, lead of course by the ever gorgeous and brilliant Robert Downey Jr, with the returning Gwyneth Paltrow on top form as Pepper. The new names; Don Cheadle replaces Terrence Howard as Rhodey, Mickey Rourke as the aforementioned Whiplash, Scarlett Johansson as the devious Black Widow, Sam Rockwell as Tony Stark’s industrial rival Justin Hammer, and Samuel L. Jackson as the head of S.H.I.E.L.D, Nick Fury.

May 7th people, clear the date in your diaries. I know I am.

No words, just shaking and screaming.

Instead of redrafting my Death of a Salesman coursework retake, I have:

- Listened to this morning's Chris Moyle's show on iPlayer (still doing so).
- Contemplated the size, layout, design and input for my diary for next year.
- Eaten a huge dinner of giant pigs in blankets and chicken pie and mash.
- Spent a long time on the Abercrombie and Fitch website.
- Called Ruddles 'baldy-leg'. Because he has a baldy leg due to his snippage today.
- Stared impassively at the crap state of my bedroom.
- Packed my bag for tomorrow.
- Decided I'm not really looking forward to tomorrow. At all.

Now I'll either watch a film, read or just go to bed. Life sucks at the moment.

So I've finished my Othello redraft, and I've just completed the final draft of my Media essay. I seem to have accidentally boosted it from two and a half pages to a nice, fat four. Good luck teachers, hahahaa.

Now I have a really bad back ache from leaning over my laptop for the whole afternoon.

I was in town earlier with Mum, and I managed to get presents for a couple of people. I'm quite proud of my present buying skills, so I hope these people are happy. It was packed though, and I really don't fancy going up there again, though I suppose I'll have to.

Also, Dark Star just did another wee in the house, and Ruddles loses his gentlemen's region tomorrow.

Fun times here, I tell you.

We are having television issues. And by that, I mean the signal is being crap. Which means we only had BBC One, BBC Two and the CBBC channels. Until I just fiddled with it (trying to help, like I was asked) and now we don't have anything at all. Wonderful.

Also, Mum just labelled me a 'boring old fart' because I don't want to go out tonight. I'm in every night. I don't mind being in, Laura doesn't mind that I'm not going out, so why should anyone else care? Why should they? So now I'm in the wrong. No doubt anything else that happens tonight will also be my fault. I suppose this is me being a martyr. Wonderful.

I did my Othello redraft. It took nearly all afternoon. But it's done. You'd think this was a good thing, but no, I still have to do my even worse Death of a Salesman essay and my Media essay. Also, I was told on Friday I should probably do some more work on my Media practical.

What a fantastically rubbish day yesterday was. In Drama Lillie and I thoroughly embarrassed ourselves by prancing around on stage in suits with bras over the top. No one in our group spoke and the audience were just staring at us as if we'd just announced we were in support of some radical racist group. And then in Media I got told my coursework mark (so far) and it put me in the worst, most depressed mood for the rest of the lesson and then the journey home. The guy next to me, who hasn't even done a first draft of the bloody essay, got a higher mark than me.

Yes. It was that bad.

So really, I'm not in a fabulous mood. At all. And I'm sorry if I take it out on anyone because I'm trying fairly hard to keep it contained. I suppose it's weird that the only place I can really rant is online, in this blog. And it's not really private at all.

I am tired, very very tired.

I didn't seem to get much done over the weekend, which made me feel incredibly underprepared for this week. I did my Sylvia Plath essay on Sunday, and gave it in today. I finished my two Drama question things but they are in for Friday. I'm supposed to be doing research into epic poetry. I only just remembered.

Dad has gone up to Gma's for a few days so it's just me, Ma and Neil, and the cats, here right now. I've done washing up and stuff, Neil claimed that he 'forgot' to do the rubbish this morning which roughly translates as 'could've done it, but couldn't be bothered'. So thanks, you know? Thanks for the help. I imagine I've done the rubbish wrong which means Ma will get home after a hard day at work and have to do more jobs. Which only makes me feel worse.

As a result of Pa being away, I had to walk to Sandringham this morning, which meant I had to get up super early and be out of the house by quarter to eight. Ergh. And it wasn't even like it was a particularly inspiring lesson. The first bit of dialogue that was exchanged was:

Gary: Have you marked our practical coursework?
Samuels: Well, me and Miss Ashton gave it a mark.
Mark: And? Where they alright?
Samuels: Not great.

Peachy. And now I have to do super loads of work on my written essay before next week which is deadline day. So, you know, crap.

Also I'm beginning to panic ever so majorly and silently over Drama. In a double lesson, the first session will be spent discussing ideas, and the second will be spent discussing actually getting up and doing some work. Which we don't really do. So I'm stressing because we have so little time it's a joke. We have this week, next week and then four weeks and then we perform. I just get the feeling we're not taking it seriously. Check out the hypocrisy right there.

Goodbye, all.

The Dragon from Merlin has taken over dinner.
Oh no, whatever shall we do?

I am not procrastinating. Procrastination is the putting off of work to a later time. I attempted work, and simply found I could not continue. I know what I have to do. There is just something very demoralising about having to go through two essays you'd previously handed in, thinking 'oh yeah, I'm quite happy with these', with the pages literally covered in red pen.

And by the way teachers, the note 'why?' is not helpful. Neither is 'say more here'. If I knew why, or what else to say, I would have done it in the first draft.

I also have two Drama essays to write, and a Sylvia Plath essay to do. Oh yeah, and my third Media draft. On top of those two coursework redrafts.

So no, I am not procrastinating. I am waiting for my brain to kick into gear.

In the meantime, I dropped the heaviest part of my laptop cable (the box bit with the light) onto my toe, which is now bleeding and hurts very much. Also, I'm getting my hair cut at four, and then it's Merlin tonight.

And usually I'd have all my work done by Merlin, so right about now, I feel like a total flunk.

WHAT WOULD ARTHUR DO?

Yessss! OMG! ♥

I think I'm coming down with something.

My throat was an accurate copy of that advert where the man's neck has been replaced with a power saw. My nose is running, my eyes sting and I'm getting a cough. It's really not very pleasant. So I've been drinking lots of lemsips and watching Merlin and Misfits and listening to Mumford and Sons and it's helping.

In Drama on Tuesday, the Brigade and I were sitting in the Tech Foyer, where the 6th Form loos are situated. Every so often, a guy would go in, and come straight back out again. We thought this was a bit odd, so Ed went and had a look to see what the problem was. He came out, straight away with a look of complete disgust on his face, and quickly made his way back over to where we were sitting. It turned out that someone had done a poo in one of the urinals. We didn't go into details, obviously, but the story gets worse. Just as the end-of-day bell rang, the cleaner turned up, entered the boy's loo and her face literally sank. She then said 'Oh shit'. Indeed my dear, indeed it was.

We attempted to learn the Cha Cha Cha in ballroom dancing this morning. I sucked. Majorly. Also, Mrs Dean had a chat with me this morning about setting myself target deadlines for my English coursework. It looks like I have a thrilling weekend ahead of me.

I've also been experimenting with my hair, and ending up with styles which (in my opinion) look quite nice but which I would never, ever actually go outside with. Which is a shame, but there you go.

I felt as though I should blog, seeing as I haven't done for a while. Here, have a lovely picture of Natalie Portman looking proper stunning.