Tonight, I went to see 'Jaws 2: The Wrath of Khan' at the Prince Charles Cinema.
My favourite bit was when William Shatner screamed "SHARK" at Ricardo Montalban, really encapsulating his frustration at the latter's vendetta against him. I also liked when Walter Koenig caught fire after biting the massive underwater electrical cable Roy Scheider enticed him onto; he deserved it for that despicable accent.
As far as sequels go, 'Jaws 2' is pretty robust. The acting is understated for a mid-1970s blockbuster; there are a few too many teenage boys with exactly the same face wearing the same Bob Dylan caps in it, but that's par for the course for the era.
It was one of the PCC's Beer and Pizza Nights, where cost of admission includes a can of beer and a slice of pizza (you would never have guessed it). Every so often you'd hear the satisfying click and fizz as someone else opened their drink; after a while, this made me envious, as I had the driest mouth on the planet, thanks to consuming a bag of popcorn on top of everything else; I'm suffering from RSI from lifting so much inverted corn to my cake-hole; when it comes to eating in a cinema, I clearly have no off-switch.
As I write, I'm crammed into a deeply uncomfortable carriage of one of the shittest-of-the-shit trains Great Northern lay on from King's Cross to Hitchin of an evening. It's like they were designed as a tax dodge, with no intention of providing transport; they wouldn't look out of place at Bekonscot model village. If my jeans were any more rucked up I'd be a eunuch; still, at least my ticket was cheap.
I also liked the dinosaurs and the bit when Johnny-5 was given the key to the city. I'll never understand why they banned it; all because of an inappropriate act with a crucifix. I'm misunderstanding things for comic effect; still we had fun getting to the end of this blog post, didn't we?