The last time I saw Gram, my wife and I took our little girl, Emma, to meet her for the first time. Our girl had been born prematurely six weeks earlier and was on her way home from hospital. Because Gram’s health meant that she was unable to visit her, we agreed to take Emma straight from the hospital to meet her.

Emma’s one of Gram’s 25 great grandchildren. And when the two finally met, I chuckled at Gram’s proclaiming, to the other home residents, that Emma was her 38th. A slight exaggeration or final tally prediction, Gram was never short of praise for what she, her children and children’s children had accomplished. Nothing brought her more joy than seeing her family line continue.

Gram was born 91 years ago, out the back of her mother’s wallpaper shop in Corne, Lancashire, England. And despite being born in a slum area, Gram would go on to make a pretty good life for herself.

At the age of three, her family relocated to Australia.

Growing up during the depression and between two world wars, Gram found herself leaving school at the age of 14 to go work in an office. But not content with not obtaining her school merit, she continued and completed her education at night school.

Some years later, she met the charismatic and lovable rogue Geoffrey Hill who, legend has it, used the now infamous pick up line, “we’d make good-looking babies”.

He wasn’t wrong. (That extends to their grandchildren, too.)

Gram was something different to everyone. But everyone knew exactly what to expect from her. To me, she was the leading example of making the best out of any situation; but not before always acknowledging what was right or wrong about it. She took a problem and worked towards a solution.

Like when I asked her and my mum to take me to see the film American Beauty, not really aware of what it was about. My advice to you: it’s not a film that you should see with your mother or grandmother – certainly not both at the same time.

But when the credits rolled, and when I couldn’t sink any lower in my seat, Gram turned to me, gave me a smile, and said “if that was on the telly I would’ve changed the channel. Now – are you hungry?”.

Always making the best out of any situation.

So where am I at? I’m actually probably at the most important stage of my life. Certainly the most important stage since I was born.

I’m going to be a dad.

It’s something that so many people go through — literally billions before me — and yet, it’s such a massive thing, for me at least. Like, the biggest thing ever. HUGE.

Up to this point in my life, I’ve mainly been cynical of (and a little annoyed at) parents who carry on about their kids like they’re the most important thing in the world. Like I won’t be complete as a human being until I read a status update about something amazing/ground breaking/disgusting that they’ve just done:

OMG, little Timmy just said my name. Or I think it was my name. It may have been a burp. Vomit.

But now, I get it. I’m not justifying it, and I’m certainly not condoning it; but I get it. There’s this tiny being growing inside of my wife’s abdomen (weird) whom now I’m responsible for. And will be for the rest of my life. THE REST OF MY LIFE. Just saying it sounds crazy.

But why should that change how I feel about privacy? Having experienced a parent’s one-sidedness from the outside for so long, I believe that what goes on between you and yours needs to remain about you and yours; and about me and mine.

I’m not saying that I’ll never write about my kid, kids or family; but now I get that it’s not just about me. I don’t want to embarrass my kid for the sake of a few laughs, or talk about my sleepless nights for the sake of some external pity. If something happens that I think warrants sharing, that I think is important or funny or so-god-damn-cute-that-you-really-need-to-see-it, then I’ll share it.

Like an example of my mother’s awesome knitting:

But, I’m really going to try to inject a bit more mystery into it all. I grew up without thousands of people knowing my every move: surely that’s good enough for my offspring too.

Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of man’s desire to understand. — Neil Armstrong

It’s good to be back.

In what’s been dubbed “The Batman Massacre”, 24-year-old psychopath James Holmes will now go down in history for not only killing those poor people and injuring scores more, but also for killing, or at least attempted to kill one of my most cherished pastimes: the cinematic experience.

My thoughts are with the families and friends of the victims. I cannot fathom ever having to go through what they are currently experiencing. To lose a loved one in a fashion as violent and callous as what they’ve experienced would be nothing short of life shattering.

But in a strange twist, Holmes’ actions have also encouraged a fear of going to the movies.

I go to the movies to live my dreams. When the lights go down and the screen lights up, I feel as though I can accomplish anything. I can fall in love, fly like a bird, save the world from tyranny, or wield the mighty hammer Mjolnir. I can let my guard down and attack my problems head on without any threat to my well-being or sanity.

I also go to the movies to live my nightmares. I enjoy being scared, challenged or pushed beyond my emotional limits. I like to feel things that I don’t want to feel in my real life, like devastation or foreboding; and I tend to relish in discomfort. It’s good experiencing negative emotions during a film because it can help you to understand them in a way that won’t adversely change your life. By experiencing them in a safe environment, we can appreciate not experiencing them in real life.

I was crushed when I discovered that Holmes had violated the sanctity of going to the cinema. And not just because it’ll be difficult for anyone – particularly those directly affected by Aurora – to ever feel safe in a cinema again; but if any of his victims have a similar experience at the movies to me, then it makes it so much worse for them. To be ripped away from a place of security and dreaming so violently makes what he did so much more cowardly and horrific.

And it’s hard to tell people not to be afraid because fear is one of our basic emotions; but I will reinforce the cliché that we can’t let the bad guys win. We can’t let their evil ways stop us from doing what we do. We can’t live in fear. We can be afraid, and acknowledge that we’re affected by it, but we can’t let fear dictate what we do.

I can rattle off statistics claiming that you’re more likely to be killed by something other than a gun massacre, but statistics do little to comfort people — especially those directly involved in one.

We should never forget Aurora; but hopefully we can get to a point where we don’t fear escaping into the dark room of thrills and nightmares, where the terror is limited to either on screen or in our dreams.

Don’t stop going to the movies. I won’t be.

When cave paintings of ancient and non-related cultures hint at life being “engineered” by beings from outer space, archaeologist Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Repace) believes very strongly that our makers put us here for a reason, and that they want us to travel to their planet to give them our thanks.

After captivating the imagination of Peter Weyland — head of Weyland Industries (“the company” from the Alien series) — he agrees to send Shaw and her also-archeologist boyfriend across the universe with a ship and crew.

Despite the trip not quite going to plan Shaw refuses to believe that the human race is nothing but a science experiment gone wrong, continuously (and annoying) going on about her faith (in God?) and the meaning of life. Yeah, whatever.

Straight up: don’t expect Alien. In fact, don’t even expect a film like Alien. There are various “DNA” links and shared universe references; but that’s it. This film is very different in feel and tone to it’s predecessor.

Now, I’m not going to try to “understand” Prometheus in this review. Partly because I don’t want to spoil too much, and partly because doing so would just take too long; and I don’t think it’s worth it.

Despite the film’s intriguing premise, its script is pretty thin; complete with flat characters and an annoyingly uneven pace. It raises some fascinating questions about life, evolution, why-on-earth-we’d-ever-want-to-leave, etc; but it also — quite intentionality — leaves a lot of those questions unanswered.

I know that Scott and his screenwriters (Jon Spaihts & Damon Lindelof) didn’t want to give us all the answers, and I understand that you shouldn’t carry all your plot eggs in the one narrative basket; but living with a cautious expectation that you’ll have a sequel to play with just comes across as arrogant. And ultimately I was left wanting more.

The climax of the film is exciting, but not as exciting of the prospect of a follow up. Again, making a film with the idea of “explaining” it in its sequel is a little too presumptuous for me.

Given the film’s links to Alien, I know that you know that a lot of characters meet a grisly end. But what sets it apart from its predecessor is that I wasn’t emotionally involved with any of them, thanks to some very poor character development. So when one of them got their ass good-and-dead, I mostly just laughed. (Seriously! Would you try to touch an obviously annoyed cobra-like animal? Especially when you know nothing about it. Idiot.)

But I did really enjoy Michael Fassbender as David; the ship’s android-cum-butler. He’s the only interesting character amongst an annoying and uninteresting lot.

The film looks amazing. The set design and special effects are what should drive you to see this film, if anything. (And having been filmed in 3D, the extra dimension is flawless.) But due to no tension or suspense, nothing worth caring about and an interesting idea squandered through poor execution, its strengths are moot. You can’t put lipstick on a space jockey.

I think I’m going to leave it at that. Go and see it if you want a bit of a xenomorph back story; but if you enjoy a good thriller or science fiction film (or just good films in general) Prometheus probably isn’t the film for you.

It’s mostly just a missed opportunity.

Prior to being allowed access, I had to sign an agreement which meant that I wasn’t allowed to show anyone my photos; but with the recent lifting of the gag order, I can now share my experience with you.

Alexander Farm, located on the outskirts of Matamata on NZ’s north island, was used as the location for “Hobbiton” in the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

It’s been open to the public for a while, but when filming on Lord of the Rings came to an end all of the sets were taken down and removed.

But a recent agreement between the farm owners and Peter Jackson has ensured that the recently rebuilt sets (for The Hobbit) are to remain as a permanent tourist attraction, allowing fans the opportunity to experience a bit of movie magic.

It’s all there; the party tree, the Green Dragon, Sam’s house, and most of all: Bag End.

But, words can only convey so much, so I’ll let the photos do the talking.

I must warn: I’m a writer, not a photographer.

For more information, check out the Hobbiton Tours website.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey is out at Christmas.

It stars Johnny Depp as Barnabas Collins, an 18th century nobleman-turned-vampire, who, after being buried alive by a jealous witch, awakens in the strange and very swinging 1970s.

Sticking true to form, both Burton and Depp are back with another “dark” movie; however, this time it’s with Depp in the lead as the troubled and disturbed loner, instead of… oh, wait.

Okay, so Burton and Depp enjoy working together, I get it; but it’s beginning to feel as though both talents have reached their creative limits working collaboratively, and it wouldn’t be a bad idea if they explored other options. Scorsese moved on from De Niro, Spielberg from Hanks; it’s time that Burton and Depp followed their lead.

There’s something about Burton’s more recent, CGI-driven films that leaves me unfulfilled. It’s like, now that he’s established in the industry and has the command and proven-success to make big films, he’s losing touch with what sucked us in in the first place: his characters.

Edward Scissorhands, Batman, Beetlejuice, Ed Wood — all films with remarkable and unforgettable characters; nowadays, it’s all about scale and grandeur and “look what I can do”.

Dark Shadows isn’t a bad film, it’s just okay. The storytelling gets confused at times, unsure whether or not it’s supposed to be funny or scary. It’s kind of scary, with Depp’s character indeed proving that he’s a vampire; and it’s kind of funny, but if you’ve seen the trailer, there’ll be nothing new for you to laugh at.

The cast do an okay job (again, just “okay”). However I did enjoy Bella Heathcote as the live-in “governess” Victoria; she’s the only character who has any sort of character development.

And the events in the finale felt a little heavy-handed and convenient; and too little too late. If you’re going to give me a story overloaded with ghosts and witches and vampires, you can’t afford to keep them in the dark for too long; otherwise your audience will get bored. I did.

Overall, I was left underwhelmed by Dark Shadows; being far from anyone’s best work, I think it’s best to lock it in the secret cellar and forget about it.

Here’t goes: comicbookmovie.com is a bad, bad idea.

I wasn’t always a Negative Nancy; I used to adore CBM, back when I was a relative n00b to nerd blogs/forums. I’d spend hours scouring the site for any and all things comic book cinematic adaptation-related.

But seldom will I visit it again.

If you’re unaware of the site, here’s the crux: it’s a comic book/movie/comic book movie fan-site with the genius idea (sincerely) of letting fans of the site write its articles. I say “genius” because rarely would the creators have to actually do anything; give a nerd an outlet to express themselves and you’re guaranteed an avalanche of content.

And therein lies the problem.

There are two things that nerds love that CBM provides the opportunity for: knowing stuff and debating stuff. But because of this, there’s this incessant need for its “writers” to have one-up on each other; so-much-so that they’ll sometimes warn of a spoiler AND name said spoiler in an article’s heading.

For example (trust me, no spoilers):

THE DARK KNIGHT RISES Children’s Books Spoil Scene With Batman’s [deleted] [deleted].

And now you’ve spoiled it for me. Thanks.

This compulsion to continuously release spoilerific information upfront — I’m guessing to prove that their finger is more on the pulse than others — is a stupid, unnecessary and inconsiderate obsession.

When a writer has spoilers in their article, it’s courtesy (and an unwritten rule) that you pre-warn the reader, giving them the opportunity to opt-out if they wish; putting the spoiler in the title doesn’t allow for this and is very uncool.

Not all of its users are like this — and some are staunchly against the practice — but there’s enough of it going on for me to permanently block the site; some users are so obsessed with being the first person to break something huge that they’re not thinking of the repercussions.

It’s time for a change, comicbookmovie.com.

But with media outlets and over-zealous bloggers jokingly heralding Eugene as the harbinger of end-times, are we losing sight of the real issues here?

You should know that I love zombie stories – less the blood and guts and more the metaphors for conscription, mass-acceptance, slavery, etc. (but whatever, man) – but I also love that they’re stories; as in not real/fiction/I don’t want to joke that these stories could ever be real.

So when the interwebs tells me that zombies could be real, naturally I want to know everything about this nasty and potentially-undead monster.

The hype is such that we can forget that there’s a man in hospital with 75 percent of his face missing – with injuries so severe that it took days for authorities to identify him; and his attacker has died after being high – very high – on something incredibly dangerous.

Yes, Eugene’s behaviour was reminiscent of our favourite post-apocalyptic yarns, but the comparisons need to end.

Both men are victims here – one of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and the other of a terrible addiction that’s not only cost him his life, but possibly his victim’s too.

It’s devastating; and now that we’ve laughed and joked and pondered the possibility that the ZOMBIES ARE COMING (RUN!), we need to leave it alone.

I apologise if I seem a little morally-superior, waving my finger about; but sensationalising something as horrible as a drug-crazed man eating another man’s face off makes me sad.

What we should be pondering is “why did/how could this happen?” and more importantly “how do we stop this from happening again?”.

So how does Marvel justify its decision to hire a relative cinematic-unknown to direct the most-anticipated comic book movie ever?

Proof’s in the pudding, really.

Based on the looong running comic book series of the same name, The Avengers takes place after the events of Iron Man (and its sequel), The Incredible Hulk, Thor and Captain America: The First Avenger.

I’m a bit late to the party, sitting down to review it weeks after its release; but it’s taken me this long to articulate my reaction, in a way other than:

ohmyfreakin’god or amazingamazingamazing or JossWhedonisagenius or IthinkI’mgoingtoexplodeSHIT.

So here’t goes.

Taking place in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and specifically following on from the events of Thor and Captain America: The First Avenger, S.H.I.E.L.D. — the international peace keeping force headed up by Nick Fury (Samuel Jackson) — have the mystical Cosmic Cube, or Tesseract, and are trying to find a way to use it as an unlimited and self-sustainable source of energy.

But when the Cube opens up a portal from space, sending through the nasty and vengeful Loki (Tom Hiddleston), Fury soon realises that S.H.I.E.L.D. may have helped themselves to too much cosmic pie.

With the threat of global subjugation, Fury is left with no choice but to assemble the world’s best superheroes in an effort to stay Loki’s plans.

Or to quote the original comics:

And there came a day, a day unlike any other, when Earth’s mightiest heroes and heroines found themselves united against a common threat. On that day, the Avengers were born—to fight the foes no single super hero could withstand!

It must have been a daunting task, writing a two (to three) hour screenplay based on 70 years of comics, six superheroes and five high-grossing films. But with the benefit of not having to do an origin story, Whedon exhibits his penchant for jumping straight into the action; during the first scene we witness Loki’s arrival, [deleted] and [deleted] getting [deleted], [deleted] getting [deleted], an awesome underground car chase and a S.H.I.E.L.D. base getting [deleted] [deleted] by the [deleted].

But even though Whedon doesn’t have to explain each character’s origins — thanks to the preceding films — he still makes the effort to touch on the back-stories of each of the major characters; short and sharp, and not overly wordy, these little quips have enough references to the previous films to educate the inevitable Marvel newcomers (or to those of us who might need a refresher).

Overall the script is solid and sharp, with every scene being pertinent to the narrative — nothing self-indulgent or silly.  It’s astonishing that, with its 143 minute running time, not one minute of it is wasted. (Note: Apparently the first cut was three hours long.)

The cast is excellent, which can hardly be attributed to Whedon as most of the actors were already locked in prior to him coming on board. However, his decision to replace Edward Norton with Mark Ruffalo as Bruce Banner/The Incredible Hulk was a wise move; Ruffalo’s calm demeanour and strong acting chops help with the natural juxtaposition of Banner with the Hulk. He’s believable when he’s doing scientist stuff in his lab, but you’ll also take a step back when he gets angry; it’s a balancing act, and he’s the first actor to play the role flawlessly.

And another for firsts, Ruffalo is the first actor playing Bruce Banner who actually plays the Hulk too, by means of motion capture – but I’ll touch on that more in a sec’.

Robert Downey Jnr is on fire as Tony Stark/Iron Man (for the third time), wonderfully executing his character’s trademark wit and intelligence with razor-sharp precision.

Chris Evans is great as the bug-up-his-ass-but-means-well-boy-scout Captain America, who, if truth be told, does look a bit silly in his outfit; but the “stars and stripes” thing is referenced in a fun scene with Agent Coulson – another fun but important inclusion by Whedon.

Chris Hemsworth is marvellous as Thor, the mighty god of thunder, again bringing an old school command to his role.

Samuel Jackson finally earns his Marvel pay check with a measured and strong performance as the group’s mentor/boss.

It’s great that Tom Hiddleston is back as Loki; despite a strong performance in Thor, I still felt that we didn’t see enough of his character’s brooding nature. We get it tenfold here. He’s nasty, deceitful, devious and a delight to watch; all the things you want from a god of mischief.

Each of the cast get the right amount of screen time warranted for their character; save for one. I felt that Jeremy Renner’s Hawkeye was a little undercooked, which was no fault of his; I just would’ve liked to have seen a bit more crime fighting on his part. His ‘partner’ Black Widow, played by Scarlett Johansson, gets more character this time round, after staying far too mysterious in Iron Man 2; we find out how/why she got to being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and despite being Russian in the comics, why she has an American accent (a bugbear for many a fan after seeing Iron Man 2). And Clark Gregg is again in fine form as the wise-cracking but dependable S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Coulson.

The film looks great, with Marvel having spent their $200 million very wisely (makers of Green Lantern, take note); the special effects are top-notch — with special note being made to the Hulk (I can’t imagine the sleepless nights his visual artists spent making him as photo-realistic as he was). With Ruffalo performing the Hulk via motion-capture technology, the result is a digital character as moody and fluidly moving as any of the “real” actors; his physicality is the best we’ve seen yet.

The music — oh, the music! — is velvet to the ears; returning from Captain America is industry-veteran Alan Silvestri, who has composed an epic, poignant, exciting and beautiful score.

To sum up, The Avengers is pure popcorn heaven; it’s smart, funny, explosive and epic, and has given me the most fun I’ve ever had in a cinema.

This is the comic book film we’ve been waiting for. I’ve a grin from ear to ear.

That was until, as it turns out, Superman was alive all along. Yeahbuhwhat?

Have stories, particularly comics, lost their sense of foreboding?

Max Landis (writer of Chronicle and the son of John Landis — yes, THAT John Landis) has some very interesting things to say about the issue.

Check it out:

Luckily, television is taking DC’s original lead by killing off characters when it seems right by the narrative (and keeping them dead); Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead, et al, have no issue with offing characters if doing so adds something potentially great to the story.  They even killed someone in The Avengers, an act that I sincerely hope stays permanent. 

I don’t agree with gratuitous death, but if killing a character serves a purpose then why the hell not?

Hopefully with the reboot of the DC universe, death makes a comeback. As in staying dead.

Vote 1 narrative integrity — bring back death!