I think I made something of a mistake this afternoon. Yesterday I came across Mark Kermode’s review of Moonfall. The good doctor was so damning, and found the film so awful, that in a strange way I became intrigued. No film could possibly be that bad, I reasoned; maybe it was some kind of spoof or joke film. Maybe the direness was some kind of intentional gimmick.
Wanting to see for myself i therefore took myself to the cinema this afternoon. It had been a while since I last went to the flicks anyway, so I think it was in order. But I now know how utterly wrong I was not to just trust Kermode. I seriously doubt I have ever seen anything as mind-numbingly crap as the film I watched earlier: I am staggered that it was ever made. It had the scientific literacy of a gerbil, and the shit I did this morning was probably more intelligent than the script. It was so nauseatingly stupid it was insulting. The concerning thing is, it seemed to take itself and want to be taken seriously; it didn’t seem to realise it was so moronic and thought of itself as a standard blockbuster. More to the point, the way it pressed certain ideas onto us, such as the validity of conspiracy theories, gave the film the aspect of having quite a concerning agenda. There was nothing ironic or self-knowing about it – the film was just dire, but dire with a nutjob agenda. Frankly, I left the cinema flabbergasted that any producer or director could have read such a screenplay and decided to turn it into a film, rather than throw it straight into the bin where it clearly belonged.