Last night in my dream I had to eat popcorn that never seemed to end and all the while I did it, a man in a Hawaiian shirt kept humming the calypso theme. Then there was a bit where somebody kept running up behind me, stroking my arms and running away and the only other bit I remember was something about parading penguins. An odd way to start today’s blog, so let me explain and start afresh. I went to see Inception last night. If you haven’t been, you probably should go. I say probably, because if like me you already have a damaged psyche, it will do nothing to help you sleep ever again. I am going to try my goddamn best not to put any spoilers in this blog, but like an Essex boy with money to spend and a Ford Fiesta, spoilers will happen at some point. So if you haven’t seen it, proceed with caution. If you have seen it, expect my blog not to help you make sense of it all anyway or for me to even try and explain the film in anyway. Someone asked me last night what the plot was and I said I couldn’t tell them. This is partly because you shouldn’t know when seeing it and partly because I am still piecing it together. To say it didn’t make sense would be a lie, but to say it made sense would also be a lie. You can see why I didn’t sleep till the wee hours last night, thanks to, ironically, a film sort of about sleep.
Overall, and I should point this out first, it is bloody brilliant and there is nothing I could actually take umbrage with anything about it. But, and this is only a small but, and in no way a booty, there are some very small things I could complain about. These small things are weeny small, non-important, would have ruined the film if they were there and are almost entirely being typed out now for the purposes of this blog. First useless point, was that my dreams don’t contain men with guns, freight trains appearing out of nowhere and heists. My dreams are nearly always properly bonkers. Now a film where Di Caprio has to dodge flying giraffes and keeps noticing his hands turning into cornflakes would have been a very different film and probably directed by Terry Gilliam. People do have those sorts of dreams though don’t they? I know the team in Inception have been trained to control the subconscious, but they must have had to come across someone who inexplicably was having a nightmare about a zombie infestation, which would make cracking the code to their inner mind’s safe a tad more difficult while the undead are snapping at their necks? Then again, I suppose they are mostly dealing with business types and they may have a much lower creativity level then others. I want to see a sequel where all the crew involved eat cheese then go for it. Inception 2: I Just Camembert It. Or something.
Actually Inception 2, which they should never make, should have the tagline of ‘I’m a dreamer’ or ‘Dreams can come true’ if only to revive the long dead careers of Gabrielle and whoever sang the other one. Yeah I could google it. I’m not going to though. I just don’t care enough. Deal with it. Not that either of them needs a career revival, but sometimes I like to entertain the idea of a sequel so bad it gets disowned by the film studios and I believe that sort of title track is needed for such a thing. So, er, I only really had one point then, and it wasn’t very good. I blame this to not sleeping very well. Unless of course I am still sleeping? Which is the other question that’s been plaguing my mind seeing the film. If I am still sleeping then I really should berate my own mind for being quite so dull as this dream was mostly about me deciding not to bother to go running this morning then feeling tired. Its like all those times I’ve dreampt of being asleep. Sometimes I’m concerned my brain just isn’t even trying anymore. Look, just go see the film and we’ll take about it all after. If the film exists, and I wasn’t just dreaming it that is. Arrrrrgggghhhhhhhhhhh!
I have to do a gig for the RAF this evening. I can’t imagine I’ll be let anywhere near the airbase with or without ID, if they find me smacking my own head and shouting ‘wake up’ at myself as I drive in.
